


Attention to Detail

by Prototype (buttelf)



Category: Game Grumps, Ninja Sex Party - Fandom
Genre: (no one is hurt or dies irl don't worry), AU, Art AU, Art Student!Arin, Art Student!Holly, Art Student!Ross, Art Student!Suzy, Bad Dreams, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hand Jobs, Jacksepticeye - mentioned, M/M, Masturbation, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Sexual Content, Model!Dan, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Night Terrors, Not Really Character Death, Nudity, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Platonic Kissing, Platonic Romance, Public Hand Jobs, i promise that arin and ross aren't dating lmaoo they're just super gay, it's not really angst but you know, super fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-05-29 17:20:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 41,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6385396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttelf/pseuds/Prototype
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When their art teacher announces that they’re going to have a model come into the class for them to study, Arin can’t really hide his excitement. He's hoping for a buff, chiseled male model, but what he actually gets, he wasn't quite prepared for. He becomes enamored with the model - getting himself tangled in more than he could have ever asked for.<br/>--<br/>Art Student and Model AU!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Time, and Again

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for taking interest in this story! I've been planning this out for months. Here's some information about my AU, if you're willing. Please consider the fact that I'm not in university or college, but that this is based off my own experiences and by my own thoughts of what it would be like. If you have suggestions on how to make this AU better, please shoot me a comment.
> 
> AGES:  
> Arin and Ross: 20  
> Suzy and Holly: 19  
> Dan: 25  
> Other grumps: (?) probably around Arin/Ross’s age!
> 
> RELATIONS:  
> Ross and Arin are on-campus roommates; Suzy and Holly are on-campus roommates. Arin and Suzy have been best friends for a very long time (they have the blonde streaks!). Holly and Ross are dating, Arin is gay, Suzy is single, Dan is a surprise ;) Other grumps, if included, will be revealed in context.
> 
> TIMESPAN / LENGTH:  
> Each chapter will take place in the length of one day, depending on the chapter length. Their school’s classes are 2.5 hours long, and Friday classes are 1 hour long, no classes on weekends!

 

 

The voices in the room began to liven as the clock marked the end of the first period of Monday morning. Arin was sitting at his desk, nearly shivering, goosebumps appearing all over the exposed skin of his arms and the hairs on them standing on end. His teacher insisted that the art room was constantly kept to a frosty temperature - even in the middle of winter, as it was now - as she believed that if it were warm, the students will get comfortable and want to fall asleep. Arin always counters with the fact that since he's about to freeze his ass off in   _this_  temperature, he's going to be more concentrated on warming up than doing any real work, but she never caved.

With a defeated sigh, he sat back in his chair, tapping his pencil on the desk, subconsciously, to no real beat in particular. Ross began enthusiastically telling him about a new band he discovered - a small one, not well known, their 80s-style electronic music being unique to them and not many others. He offered Arin an earbud to take a listen, to which the brunet accepted. If Arin didn't express it, he really was kind of excited to listen to it - first of all, to get his mind off of the fact that he   _swore_  he could see his breath in the chill of the room, and secondly, because he has always loved finding new music. He shoved the bud into his ear and fixated his eyes on his desk as he listened. The music was actually... not bad. He was enraptured by the shredding guitar and the thrumming bass, the drums keeping a loud, steady beat, the distorted, electronic vocals that made him take a second to actually understand the lyrics. Not bad at all!

Arin opened his mouth to tell Ross how he felt. But as his lips formed the words, their bubbly art teacher spoke up from the front of the room. She was an older lady, who wore thick-rimmed glasses and had frizzy white hair with a trill-y voice, always ringing happily and full of vivacity as she spoke. It usually annoyed Arin when he wasn't in a good mood. How the hell could anyone be   _that_  happy   _all_  the time?

Nonetheless, he respectfully pulled the earbud out and quieted down to listen, their teacher's voice shrill and clear in the silence.

"Before class ends, I would like to remind you to be on time tomorrow - early, even!" She giggled as if she'd just cracked the best joke in the world. In his head, Arin rolled his eyes.   _Just get to the point_ , he thought.

"We're going to be beginning figure studies tomorrow, and a live model will be coming in to pose for you all. I need you all to set up the class in preparation for this event."

She gave instructions like a happy songbird, making Arin grumble, but of course he was too much of a pacifist not to follow them. After a few minutes, with the help of the other students, the room began to take form. The desks were all pushed around and stacked to the back of the class. Three-legged stools took place of the chairs that stood there before, which now joined the desks. The stools were all placed to form a large, spacious horseshoe shape, with a single stool sitting in the middle. In front of each seat forming the ring, an easel and canvas were set up and tubes of paint were placed on the easel ledge with various brushes laying against the edge of a small cup. Towels were laid out for students to wipe their brushes on and jars of water sat on the stool surfaces for the time being.

Once every small station was uniform, their teacher clapped her hands excitedly.

"Good, good! Now, remember, the earlier, the better! We will be continuing this project for the remainder of the week..."

She rambled on, and Arin began to tune her out. He turned back to Ross, who was still listening to the music, and went to grab the other headphone bud from him. They listened to this band for the remainder of the class, not saying a word to each other.

Suddenly, apart from the headphones, a cymbal crash parted way for the band that played over the intercom of the school. Arin thought it was downright stupid, but the school always used music instead of bells to signify class changes. He might have been okay with it if it had been decent music - but what was playing was anything but that. Was this... Was this   _country_?  Arin almost couldn't believe it, and was sad that he had no headphones of his own right now.

Pulled out of his disgusted trance by a voice, the young Australian beside him gently elbowed Arin in the arm.

"Hey, I'll see you at lunch," he said, more of a statement than a question - they always hung out together, every day.

Arin hummed his agreement and lifted his hand naturally to connect in a fistbump with Ross. Before Ross could escape to class, however, Arin called out to him and placed a warm hand on his shoulder.

"Hey man, uh, what was the name of that band?"

Ross looked at him as if he'd grown a third eye.

"Are you   _serious?_  Dude, country's the fucking   _worst_ , why do you think I'd know   _that_ ?" He cocked his head to the side and gave Arin a " _wow, I'm disappointed in you_ "  look.

Arin knit his eyebrows together in confusion. "Wha- no! I'm talking about the band you showed me in   _class_ , you fuckin' idiot! Not this shit." His words ended with a laugh. Ross opened his mouth in a silent _"ohhhh"_ and nodded. He turned his head towards Arin as he began walking off to class, smiling in goodbye before shouting out his response.

"Tupperware Remix Party!" He said, voice mingling in the crowd when it finally hit Arin's ears.

"Tupp-   _what? "_ Arin demanded again, but Ross was already gone. He grimaced for yelling randomly into the crowded hallways, some people turning their heads his way, but Arin just sighed and walked into his class. Now he's going to have to   _somehow_  survive a whole two and a half hours of calculus, the same question burning in his mind with the beat of the music he was introduced to. Now that Ross wasn't there for him to ask, echoes of Arin's own voice replayed in his head as he tried to decode what Ross seemed to mumble, maybe almost purposefully.

 _" tupp- what? ", " tupp- what?_ "

  _Son of a bitch._  

After what felt like hours of contemplation and not progressing at all in his work, he decided it was time to shut his brain down for the rest of the day. In the silence of the class, Arin exhaled. Pages turned. Some unlucky people suffering from a cold going around sniffed every so often. Whispers from girls sitting beside each other, some on task, some not in the slightest. Arin would have groaned for a few desperate seconds in agony if it weren't for the five bazillion other people surrounding him.

With the weight of his head supported by his hand, he stared at the textbook and empty notebook sitting before him.   _Well, it's not going to get used for calculus_ ,  he thought,   _that's for sure_.  he grabbed his pencil and began doodling. Something, anything, whatever he can to distract himself from this dumb class, this useless work.

As lines began to take shape, Arin found himself faced with a rough sketch of a cartoony man. The drawing's hair was pulled back in a straight, tight ponytail and his thick, beefy arms and puffy chest looked hilariously disproportionate to the rest of his lanky graphite body. Maybe it would be better if Arin made the character's body a little more... Uniform.

So he started again, this time creating his character with fluffy hair. Kind of curly, kind of frizzy, poofing just past his ears; he doesn't see that hairstyle on many characters, or many people, and he doesn't need convincing to know how much he loves it. The character had a dopey grin and a rather pointed nose. Arin thought it looked really cute, and instead of muscular ones, he gave him pencil-thin limbs attached to a long body. Now, he was truly enjoying himself, so he tried more designs with the same character: Hair up, hair down, straight hair, no hair, punk rock, hippie, techno, emo - you name it, he sketched it. Surprisingly, if he kept his lines neat, his character didn't look bad at all in every outfit Arin put him in.

He was just in the middle of choosing colours when suddenly, the hellish whine of country music blasted his ears off without warning. He shot up in his seat, smacking his left hand against the bottom of the desk from where it rested in his lap. He hissed in pain and chuckled, embarrassed, when a girl who was watching him looked at him and smiled.

He gathered his things and made his way towards the cafeteria, where he eventually met Ross. After choosing and buying food, the two made their way to a secluded area outside on the campus, where they dropped their stuff and each took a seat.

The cove they always called their own was actually a small partition between two buildings, about ten feet wide, where the roof that connected the structures shielded the area nicely. The stone block trim that lined the junction between the walls and ground jutted out about two feet from the wall, providing a generous amount of space to sit. The fact that the opening faced towards the center of the campus meant that it provided a decent enough view when there weren't many people walking around, and the afternoon sun shone warmly on their faces most days.

The winter air was unusually crisp and cold for Los Angeles, but it was refreshing at the same time, and the warmth of the sun balanced relief with comfort. This would be the only chance they got to go outside during the school day, so the boys took advantage of it every day they could. Today was the first day in about a week that they had been able to hang out here because of the abnormally "extreme" weather the city was having, and Ross and Arin fell back into their routine with ease.

Arin ate in mostly pleasant silence, listening to Ross talk and talk about anything that crossed his mind, while the brunette could only interject with laughs, food-filled "mmhm"s, and the shaking of his head.

As time passed between them and with nothing left to eat or do, Arin pulled his notebook out from his backpack. He began flipping through pages, planning to pick up his drawings where he left off last period. Ross looked back towards him after a moment of admiring the glowing beauty of the campus in the warm sun.

"You doing homework?" Ross wondered, breaking their silence.

Arin shook his head and grabbed his pencil, sketching out the outline to yet another head for his nameless character. "Nah, I was doodling in calculus, I wanted to make some more," he answered, and then, pensively: "hey, you know that model we're having tomorrow?"

Ross looked at him, slightly knitting his eyebrows. He thought, and even worried a little bit, about his segway from drawing characters to talking about this model. Regardless, he spoke up. "Yeah? What about her?"

This caught Arin off guard, and he stopped drawing to look at Ross for his statement. "Hey, man, you don't know if it's a girl!" He stuttered, slightly bashfully.

"You don't know if it's a boy," he quipped, with a laugh. "But what about the model, whoever they are?"

Arin returned to doodling, trying to compose himself a bit more. "I dunno, I was just thinking." He began, "and I was wondering what they might look like, so I just started designing characters based off of something I think I want to see."

Ross scooted over towards his friend, leaning his shoulder against Arin's own. "Show me, I wanna see 'em."

Arin flipped through a few pages that were littered with sketches of the mysterious character, a bunch with different clothes and body structures. One drawing, one that had huge arms and microscopically-tiny legs, caught Ross' attention. He pointed to it and chuckled.

"The fuck is up with this guy? He's missed more than a few leg days at the gym, I'd say."

To this, Arin laughed heartily. He shook his head and flipped back to his current work. "Rough draft," he smiled. Ross hummed in agreement and leaned back against the wall, still sitting close to Arin. The Australian closed his eyes and basked in the sun, listening to the wind whisper past the walls that protected them. Arin sat peacefully beside him, getting lost in his own world, his own work. A few minutes passed in this fashion, and the lunch break was expected to continue this way, until Ross sat up in a frantic panic.

"Oh shit, oh shit,   _fuck_ , oh no," Ross began, context-less, and continued in a flurry of curses and worried comments.

Ross did this often enough for Arin not to be overly alarmed by it, but he paid attention to the other boy anyways. "Dude, what the fuck's up?"

Ross threw himself at his bag and rummaged for his phone for a few moments, before pulling it out and looking at it. About two seconds went by, and he groaned in agony.

"Fuck, dude, I told Holly I'd spend the lunch period with her and we would go grab a coffee," he unlocked his phone and his fingers started typing at the speed of light. "I totally forgot, she sent like thirty texts and I missed four calls from her." He seemed genuinely worried about this, so Arin decided to make an effort to soothe him.

"Ross, man, it's probably fine, just tell her you forgot."

"I'm pretty sure she realized that."

"Well, there's still fifteen minutes left of lunch, go find her right now and apologize, or something." Arin was quickly running out of ideas.

Ross dropped back down to Arin's side, tossing his phone back onto his bag after sending several messages. "Nah. It's probably fine, I ate with her yesterday while you were doing work. Plus, I wanna spend more time with you,   _honey_ ." He laughed and nudged Arin in the side, who giggled in response.

Despite the jokiness behind Ross' response, Arin indulged in a warm fuzzy feeling that bloomed in his chest. The fact that Ross chose him over his girlfriend of almost five years made him beam with pride, and he looked at the Australian with rosy cheeks.

" _Now_  who's the gay one?" Arin questioned, an "in your face" kind of tone lathered all over his words.

But Ross was having none of it. He poked Arin in the arm. "Nope, still you."

Arin just giggled before the two fell back into a blissful silence until the lunch bell rang. Outside, an obnoxious buzzer sounded to notify them to get to their next class. As they approached the doors, the horrifying sound of country music blaring from the speakers reminded them exactly why they spent more time outside at lunch than inside. Arin wanted to have a little   _talk_  with whoever was responsible for this music.

The boys said their goodbyes and made their way to their respective classes. Not even twenty minutes into Political Sciences, Arin was face-down, asleep on his desk. He sat at the back of the huge theatre, so the chances of the professor seeing him were much slimmer than if he sat at the front, or even the middle, of the huge room. He doubted the professor cared anyways, Arin always did well in Polisci and he got astounding marks on tests and projects despite his tendencies to fall asleep or keep distracted during nearly every class.

The theatre eventually got very busy and noisy as the class drew to an end, rousing Arin from his nap. He shook the hair out of his tired eyes and rubbed them, packing up his unused supplies and walking out of the class with the rest of the students after their prof let them go early.

To finish off the endless day, Arin leisurely strolled towards his biology classroom. It was much smaller than the grandiose of the theatre, which made him feel more comfortable anyways. He felt more involved, the teacher knew them on a more personal level, and he overall enjoyed the experience more. He replaced the student that left his spot moments before and plopped his stuff down, waiting for the class to begin. The ear-erupting country music eventually halted and the room became silent, all the students sitting, staring ahead or chatting idly with their neighbours.

Their teacher arrived, several minutes late, and stood at the front of the class with a smile. She was a beautiful woman, always smiling kindly and she spoke with a certain confidence that made Arin respect her immensely. The woman was wearing a white tee with a monarch butterfly printed brightly and boldly across the chest area. Around her neck, the pressed wing of a moth encased in metal and glass glinted in the light of the room. The necklace was a gift from a past student - one of Arin's best friends, Suzy - who had this teacher last semester, and gave it to her as thanks for being a great teacher.

As Arin zoned back in, he realized that the teacher was giving instructions on a lab they were about to do. Right now, they were learning about the specifics of DNA. They were given different items: syringes, beakers, vials, paperclips, plastic Ziplock baggies, containers of dish soap, salt, water bottles, frozen strawberries, and chilled bottles of isopropyl alcohol. They were then asked to find a partner. Arin stood up and looked around, locking eyes with a girl across the room from him.

She had short, curly pink hair, a charming smile and a curious fashion sense. The girl wore a plain pastel blue shirt that complimented her hair nicely, with high-rise, stone-washed shorts and a thick belt synched around her waist. Her brown flip-flops pattered rhythmically on the floor as she approached Arin. Her eyeliner framed her eyes nicely when she smiled, adding a certain extra brightness to her appearance. She raised a hand in something of a wave and Arin returned it.

"'Sup, Holly," Arin greeted, moving his stuff so Holly could place hers down beside him. "Sorry about earlier this afternoon, Ross and I were enjoying the weather." He admitted easily enough, not really threatened by her eye-roll and 'disapproving' smirk.

"Ah, it's fine," she sighed, "it's just that I was just waiting for   _so_  long at Starbucks for him to show up." She opened her notebook to a blank page, writing "DNA Extraction Lab" at the top. Arin followed suit.

"Yeah, I get that. I told him to go meet you after he remembered, but the kid wouldn't budge." Arin mumbled, half-focused on the conversation, while he mixed the isopropyl alcohol, salt, dish soap and water into a plastic bag to mix it all together. He told Holly his measurements and they wrote them down on their sheets, before Holly plucked a single, lightly frosted strawberry from the container. She dropped it into the separation mixture in the baggie, before sealing it up again and mashing the frozen strawberry all around the bag. She traded off with Arin after her fingers got tired, and they began talking again while Arin took his turn to squish the fruit.

Arin looked up at her, running his free hand through his long hair. "So, what are you and Ross up to after school?"

She paused a moment, writing down her observations, before thinking a bit. "Dunno, I think we're gonna go out for dinner, but who really knows, at this point?"

The two shared a laugh in the busy-ness of the room, before Arin spoke up again, letting the weird salty-strawberry-isopropyl alcohol mix settle for a while.

"Suzy and I were going to go out to grab something. You two are free to come with, if you're not sure what you're doin'."

Holly looked at him and tilted her head in consideration, before quietly humming in agreement. "Yeah, man. That sounds like fun," she smiled. "I'll tell Ross."

After the two took turns mashing a half-frozen strawberry to a pulp, they poured the concoction out into one of the vials. Arin let out a quiet " _woah_ "  when he lifted the vial up, noticing a separation of a creamy-looking white substance and the rest of the solution. Holly unwound a paperclip and stuck the end of one into the whiteness, trying to hook it onto something. When that something finally stuck, she lifted the end of the paperclip out. A white, stringy mass hung in a straight line from the end of the thin metal, about two inches long, a fraction of an inch wide. Holly bunched her face up while she started at the thing.

" _that's_  DNA?" She inquired, surprised, weirded out, and altogether enthralled.

"I mean... Yeah, I guess," Arin started.  He was staring at the strange thing himself, surprised that an unusual mix of items found around a house could actually extract the DNA of a fucking   _fruit_ . He shook his head. "That's so fucking crazy."

Holly agreed, and began to start writing down what she saw, and a prediction to why it happened. Arin couldn't wrap his mind around it all.   _But, strawberries aren't very big_ , he tried reasoning with himself,   _the DNA strand is nearly as long as the strawberry. How can this be possible?_

After accepting that questioning the size of the DNA proved to be futile, Arin wrote down his own theory from the mess of his thoughts.   _the isopropyl alcohol must somehow break the bonds of the DNA on the molecular level. The dish soap may cause the DNA strands to dissociate from the strawberry and make them able to exist apart from each other._  it took him a few tries to word his wonders somewhat professionally, instead of just writing down that which he really wanted to:   _How the fuck is this shit possible and who the hell discovered this?_

Arin didn't realize how absorbed he was in the lab analysis until his teacher piped up from the front of the class.

"Alright, everyone please pay attention!" She sang. Everyone almost immediately shut up and looked at her. She put her hands on her hips and grinned. "Was the lab interesting?"

The   _entire_  class burst into agreement and affirmation. The teacher laughed and held her hands up to get everyone to fall silent once more, muttering quiet _"okay, okay"_ s while doing so. She grabbed her black whiteboard marker, people whispering about the lab while she wrote.

"Your lab reports will be due tomorrow," she said. An air of discomfort arose in the class. The majority of the students began mumbling about time restraints, homework from other classes, and extracurricular commitments. Their teacher, ever-aware, hummed a moment and then exhaled dramatically.

" _Fine_ ," she grumbled, mostly jokingly, "you'll be given tomorrow's class to finish it-" the class erupted into whoops and hollers, "-and then we move on. If you don't finish, you hand it in tomorrow as   _soon_  as you walk into class. Good?" Everyone nodded and thanked her for being so understanding. That's something Arin respected in teachers - when they make efforts to comprehend how much is expected of these students, and even if they run a tight curriculum, she always seems able to make time to let them relax a bit.

Their teacher made one last comment before letting them off the hook. "As soon as you finish cleaning up your lab spaces, you may leave."

Arin sighed contentedly and began to do just that, Holly helping out when she could. It wasn't a hard cleanup and they were done within the minute. Holly and Arin said their thank-yous and goodbyes to the teacher and some friends, and began to walk down the mostly empty corridors.

For the end of the day, the school (thankfully) didn't play any god-awful music. That didn't make the bell any more pleasant to listen to, though. The monotonous noise rang throughout the halls of the school and students began streaming out of classes, the Monday après-school rush beginning far sooner than Arin could have anticipated. Holly and Arin made their way to their lockers, the metal cubbyholes closely packed and awkwardly stacked on top of each other in accommodation of the density of the population. The two retrieved their things and escaped the crowd, making their way into the light of day outside. During a break in their conversations, Arin sent a quick text to Ross.

_Hey. We're going out for dinner with Holly and Suzy. Look nice, loverboy, maybe Holly will forgive you for ditching her. ;)_

Arin and Holly chatted for a few more moments before parting ways, each leaving for the comfort of their respective dorm rooms. As he walked, Arin was humming a tune that had been stuck in his head for the past several days. The song played on in his head but the vibrations of his voice got lost in the openness of the world before him. Minutes passed and no one was around, so he opened his mouth and began quietly mumbling the lyrics, whether or jot he was on key or not, it didn't matter to him.

  _Welcome to your life_ , he sang, mostly under his breath. To an outside party, it would have sounded like he was introducing himself to nothing or nobody, with barely a pitch to his voice.

  _There's no turning back_ , he carried on, humming the instrumentals in between verses and keeping beat with his fingers tapping against his thighs. He approached the dorms, but his song wasn't over yet, so he decided to slow down his pace. Walking very leisurely, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and smiled un-ironically at the sky, closing his eyes and picking up where he left off.

  _There's a room where the light won't find you_ , he snapped his fingers in time with the two irregular drum beats after his lines. He went to take a breath in for the next, taking a step with every two beats of the song. Arin opened his mouth to sing.

" _Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down_. "

Arin's eyes snapped open in an instant. _What the fuck...?_

The voice was clear and higher than his own, which made Arin wonder where the hell it came from. He looked around, and then behind him, a man, tall and skinny, with broad shoulders and a slender chest, walked backwards as he passed Arin. A rich, brown lion's mane of hair poofed out from under the beanie the man was wearing, which covered his ears from the barely-there chill of the day. The man smiled as he snapped his fingers to make his own beat, facing Arin to belt out the next line. 

 

" _When they do, I'll be right behind you_ ," he continued, and Arin actually stopped and stared at him, not even  _that_  embarrassed about his situation. He was enthralled by the man's voice. He sang in exactly the same key as Arin, but better. _Far_ better. The voice of an angel with the hair of a wildcat.

 

The man sang a few more lines and then dramatically re-enacted the higher pitches of the backing vocals. His entire body bent into a near-perfect backwards arch as he shook his fists in the air to empower his now shrill voice. Arin just laughed at the ridiculousness of it all, the man straightening out as his high note broke up into chirpy laughter. Arin took this chance to properly turn to the man, to really look at him. He had a sharp, angular face, which also simultaneously exuded tenderness and comfort. The man's brown eyes looked content and a little bit tired, and his lips were pulled into a small smile as he looked back at Arin. After what felt like way too long of a moment to stare, Arin cleared his throat and felt himself warm up a bit from some kind of discomfort. Embarrassment, maybe. This guy really was beautiful. Arin finally smiled at him and held his closed fist out to the taller man, who reciprocated the fistbump with ease.

 

"You're really fuckin' good at singing, dude. Like, holy shit," Arin decided. No introductions, no hellos, just cut to the point, just how Arin liked it. The man shrugged a bit, retracting his hands to stuff them in the pockets of his unzipped leather jacket. 

 

"Thanks, man! I've been doing it for as long as I can remember, so... I guess it's, uh, finally starting to pay off." He smiled, but there was some sort of a melancholic undertone to his voice that made Arin wonder about the man. 

 

"Well," Arin began, really without his own volition, "I think you sound great," in a very as-a-matter-of-fact voice. "I'd buy the shit out of your albums." The taller man smiled very genuinely this time, even when Arin thought that he was pushing his luck. 

 

"Thanks, bro. Really." The two shared a fraction of a second's worth of warm eye contact, and then the silence of the break began to take over and Arin shifted in his place, unsure of how to continue. He really wanted to keep talking to this guy, he seemed truly interested in what Arin was talking about, even if all Arin did was compliment him. He opened his mouth to speak, but the other man decided that he would do the same thing. In unison, they spoke, and stuck their hands out. 

 

"My name's Arin."

 

"I'm Dan." 

 

They stared at each other, wide-eyed, and then broke into a disbelieving and embarrassed laugher. 

 

"Oh my god," the ma-  _Dan_ , breathed, "Did that actually just happen?" 

 

Arin smacked a hand to the side of his face and held it there for a moment before giggling, "I guess it did." 

 

Arin stuck his hand out again and the other took it, shaking it firmly, Dan's hand not much broader, but with fingers much thinner and longer. Arin blushed at the thought, then shook it out of his mind. They held their hands together for another moment and then let go.

 

"Dan," Arin said, mostly to himself, in order to remember it. He looked at Dan's face and the other followed lead.

 

"Arin," Dan replied, almost just to confirm to Arin that, yes, he was listening, in fact, and that his name will never be removed from his mind. But Arin didn't need to know that part.

 

Arin smiled and then his phone buzzed in his pocket, making him jump out of his trance. Dan giggled a bit.  _God damn it, he's so fucking cute_ , Arin thought, and he remorsefully took the phone out of his pocket to look at who was texting him  _endlessly_. Then, a call. An 8-bit ringtone version of Dr. Wily's stage began playing out of the speakers as the call rang on. Dan nodded.

 

"Megaman, huh? Good game," he said, and Arin looked up at him with delight. 

 

"Of course! It's my favourite," he said gleefully, and in his mind he was punching himself in the head for being so childish. Dan didn't seem to mind, just chuckling away. 

 

The phone continued to ring and Arin sighed, looking at Ross' name displayed on the caller ID of the screen. 

 

Arin gestured to the phone and shrugged, actually kind of depressed that he had to make this decision. 

 

"I, uh, I kind of have to take this," Arin mumbled brokenly, "it's not, like, important, but like, I made dinner plans with friends and now I guess I'm late for them..." 

 

Dan laughed, before placing a hand over his heart and feigning hurt. "Oh, oh, I can't _believe_  you'd choose your  _friends_  over  _me!_  How  _DARE_  you, Arin?" 

 

Arin smiled and shoved his hands away playfully, deciding that maybe, just maybe, this man would be more important than his plans–  _no_. How responsible.  _Dick move, Hanson_ , he thought to himself.

 

Arin cleared his throat and looked down at the ground below their feet. Dan seemed to get the message. 

 

"So, uh," Dan said quietly, "I guess I'd better let you go, then. Don't wanna keep 'em waiting any longer." 

 

Arin sighed audibly, though nodding his head in agreement nonetheless. "Yeah. Yup. Uh," he stumbled over his words, trying to form them into a proper sentence. "Hey, uh, as short as this was, it was... um, it was really cool meeting you, Dan," he could feel his cheeks burning with the sensation of crushing on this man like stereotypical schoolgirl. Then again, Arin wondered if anyone ja the capacity to NOT like this guy. He was charming and kind, with gentle yet inviting features... Speaking of inviting, Arin wanted to smother the man's lips in sweet kisses as he watched them move when he spoke. Oh. He was  _speaking_. 

 

"-I just wanted you to know that, I guess." He finished, shrugging his leather-clad shoulders just slightly. Arin panicked a bit. Whatever this guy just said, Arin had no idea. Whatever it was, Dan looked pretty genuine about it; he was straight-faced, looking Arin dead in the eyes, posture proper and un-breaking. He could have told Arin anything from "I really don't think we should meet up again" to "I want you to be my boyfriend", and Arin isn't sure which one he should be expecting more, judging by Dan's face. Is he supposed to ask Dan to repeat it?  _Fuck_.

 

As Arin's internal monologue drove him crazy, Dan's expression began to melt into something identifiable: confusion. 

 

"Um, Arin?" He inquired, slight concern peppering his words, "are you alright?" He reached out a hand to touch Arin's shoulder, snapping the shorter man out of his thoughts.

 

"What? Oh, fuck- sorry, um..." Arin  knitted his eyebrows together, "Uh, what'd you say there?" 

 

"I asked you if you were alright."

 

"No, no, before that."

 

Dan paused for a split second before bursting into bubbly laughter. Under his breath, he mumbled "This is what I get for spilling my heart."

 

Arin whined, "N-no! It isn't your fault! I was just admiri-" he cut himself off and clamped a shivering hand to his lips. "Uhhh..."

 

Dan raised an eyebrow and looked at him, squinting just a bit, then the taller man's lips eventually curled into a smile. "Admiring  _what_ , sweetheart? You like what you  _see?_ " he gestured crudely to himself, pointing to no point on himself in particular.

 

Arin turned into a blushing mess, but decided that he'd play along. He basically ruined his chances with this guy anyways.  _May as well go out with style_ , he thought. 

 

"Yes, actually," Arin began, grinning coyly, "I was captivated by your godly beauty in the setting sun that I couldn't focus on the words your perfect mouth was forming."  _Ooo. Too far._

 

Dan looked taken aback, eyes wide and mouth hanging open slightly. "Oh- I, uh.... Wow, d'you mean that?" 

 

Arin couldn't tell if he was joking or not. "Well, I mean... Yeah, man. You're not _bad_  looking," he said quietly. Then, just for good measure: "you're not  _GREAT_ -looking either." 

 

Dan just laughed and zipped up his jacket, the disappearing sun giving way to the chill of the evening. Arin's phone buzzed like mad in his pockets again and he was reminded what the hell he was actually doing.

 

"Oh, fucking-" he started, glancing with a panic at the time displayed on his phone. "Shit, fuck, oh my god. I really have to go," he mumbled. He could feel the weight of shame baring down on his shoulders. 

 

Fortunately, Dan didn't distract him this time, and took a step back from him. "It was nice meeting you, Arin," he said, raising his hand up in parting.

 

Arin nearly took a step towards him. He didn't want him to leave. Arin   _himself_  didn't want to leave. But he forced himself to stay put, to turn away from the angel, glowing in the hot orange skyline. "You too, Dan," he replied, and nodded his head.

 

In unison, they turned away from each other and began walking. The heavier footfalls of Arin's weren't enough to drown out the squeaks that came from Dan's noisy runners with every step he took. Arin wasn't sure how long he could listen to that noise before it became annoying; probably about ten or so minutes before he  would really lose it... Not that he'd be seeing Dan again anyways, though. It was a huge school with many thousands of students attending. He'd blend in with the crowd, and Arin would lose him forever. The last gripping sights of Dan would be watching him walk away from Arin. With no turning back; Dan would probably just move on without thinking of Arin ever again, right? He looked like a popular guy. Probably has a girlfriend. Arin wouldn't have made an impression on him... 

 

Arin took a deep breath and kept walking... But there was twittering that kept sounding behind him. What the-? Arin stopped for a moment and listened to the noise.

 

A smile crept to his face.

 

There, off in the silence of the empty campus, Dan was whistling Arin's song out into the crisp air. Arin carried on where he could no longer hear Dan's tune. 

 

_Nothing ever lasts forever... Everybody wants to rule the world..._

 

\----

 

Arin burst into his dorm room, breathing heavily and a sheen of sweat covered his skin. There, strewn about the cheap, uncomfortable furniture in the room, sat Ross, Holly, and on Ross's other side sat Suzy. Arin tangled his fingers nervously through his hair as he felt three sets of eyes boring holes into him. Wondering why he never showed up. Before Ross could even open his mouth to speak, Arin drowned them with words tumbling from his trembling lips; exhausted from running across the campus and exhilarated with nerves. 

 

"Fuck, guys, I'm so sorry," he gasped desperately, "I got caught up after school and I didn't realize how much time I'd burned on my way back to-" he unwillingly cut himself off in favour of oxygen, "back to... Back here. Did you save any... Any food for me?"  He put his hands on his hips and slouched a bit, trying to soothe the cramp flaring in the right side of his ribcage. 

 

The three sitting just looked at each other, then back at Arin. Suzy twirled her finger in the blonde streak in her hair - a symbol of her and Arin's deep and longtime friendship - and she broke into a confused and apologetic smile. "Arin," she grabbed his attention, and he looked to her as she spoke, "we haven't left yet."

 

Arin's eyebrows knitted together and he straightened out too quickly. The seizing in his body felt like a knife cutting into him.  _Man, exercising more than once a year might be useful_ , he thought. Out loud, he voiced his discontentment. 

 

"And you didn't cut me off from my rant,  _why?_ " he demanded jokingly. The rest of them laughed along with him. Ross took his turn to speak.

 

"Didn't think you were gonna say so much," he stated. Holly nodded in agreement.

 

Arin decided that he would actually have to have a shower in order to feel comfortable sitting around for the next few hours, so he told the others to go to the restaurant and order for him. The others obliged and escaped the room, but not without Ross turning around and pointing at him.

 

"No hold ups," he said, looking Arin dead in the eye... But his lips slipped into a smile. Arin rolled his eyes and threw his arms up in mock exasperation. 

 

" _MAN_ , you're late  _ONE TIME_  and  _no one_  can let it go," he voiced. The others laughed and let him go, shutting the door behind them. 

 

Arin threw his clothes off and stood under the hot shower water, pondering over the day's events. It has been just over a half hour since he left Dan's side, and he already missed him. It was silly, wasn't it? Maybe. Missing a person - a stranger, essentially - that he had no connection with. Just added to the list of the people he'd see in public, the beautiful men and woman that he would try to impress just because he had an immediate crush on them. Sometimes, thoughts of those people stuck in his mind for the rest of the day, but then would never return some point soon after. Blurred faces floating in the deep recessions of his memories. He felt melancholic when he thought about it that way; and he definitely didn't want it to happen to Dan. He was... Perfect. At least, the glimpses of personality that flickered in and out of their brief conversation seemed to be perfect. He dwelled on this concept for a while, and then let out a deep sigh while subconsciously moving his hands to wash his hair. 

 

Was Dan thinking the same about Arin? Was Dan thinking about him at  _all?_ Probably not. If he was, he was probably thinking about how over-the-top and creepy Arin was acting. Nothing says "wow I have a crush on you" like excessive compliments.

 

Hot, soapy water ran down his shoulders and he finished up his routine, then cut the water. He stepped out into the chill of the room and wrapped a towel around his waist to go out to his room to get dressed. He picked up his phone, responded to some texts and checked Twitter for a few minutes before he even thought about what he was going to wear. The restaurant wasn't fancy or anything, so a nice black shirt and stone-washed jeans did the trick just fine. As he was wrapping a belt through the loops on his waist, his phone made obnoxious buzzing noises from it's place on the wooden table.  _My god_ , he thought,  _I've never been so tired of hearing a noise before this shit._  he opened the message anyways. Ross confirming his meal order, to which he replied with a simple "you got it."

 

Arin made his way out of the room and started walking towards the restaurant. He shot Ross a brief "be there soon" before shoving his phone away and enjoying the views as he traveled. It might be the same thing every time, but that didn't stop Arin from trying to take in more and more detail every time he came down here. Patterns and shapes came with interest of being an artist, and he often found inspiration for creation by paying close attention to the layout of the city.

 

His thoughts cleared as he entered the restaurant - just a simple family-owned place, but him and his friends loved it dearly. Arin greeted the hostess, who smiled back at him. 

 

"The others are in their usual spot," she said happily. "You look nice tonight." 

 

Arin looked down at himself and then back at her. Really? All he did was put some clothes on. His hair hasn't even fully dried yet, and had started getting slightly frizzy since entering the heat of the building. But, he took it. "Thanks, you look... Well, you look the same every time I see you, but..."

 

The lady looked at him with an expression that clearly read " _really?_ " and Arin held his hands up. "Wha- I'm- you always wear the same stuff for work, I'm not saying you look _bad!_ " 

 

The woman laughed and wrote down Arin's drink on her notepad. "You're lucky you're a regular, Hanson. You'd be outta this restaurant  _so_  fast, otherwise."

 

And with that, she left the group in peace.

 

"What was that about?" Holly asked. 

 

"Just sassin', as per usual." 

 

The group shared a laugh as their plates arrived.  _Just in time_ , Arin thought.  _Fuckin' starving._

 

They ate in relative silence, all enjoying the bliss that their food always brings them. Arin spent his time thinking about tomorrow, wondering how it was all going to go down until he finally voiced his thoughts. He swallowed a chunk of food he probably should have chewed more, and winced in pain as it slid down his throat. Without even bothering to give context, he opened his mouth.

 

"Don't you think it's gonna be weird, having someone pose nude in front of us for two and a half hours? So we can horribly replicate the structure of their body to be forever emblazoned on a fuckin' canvas?" 

 

Ross stared at him with one eyebrow raised, cheeks full of food, squirrel-style. He stuck his index finger up as a signal to wait and he finished chewing his food.

 

"Alright, I get that you like to read n' all, but... Dude, chill it with the big words. School ended, like, two hours ago." 

 

Holly snickered around the straw in her mouth and Suzy rolled her eyes. 

 

"Well if you actually paid  attention  in school, Ross, maybe you'd have any idea what he's talking about," she sassed. A collective  _Ooooo_  ghosted around the table and Ross shrugged in defeat. 

 

"Uh, anyways," Arin continued on, "yeah, drawing naked people from live reference. Awkward or nah?" 

 

The four artists looked around at each other, drawing to an eventual conclusion. 

 

"Nah, I don't think so," offered Holly, "I mean, really it's only weird if you let it be as such. We all have bodies, right?" They nodded. "We're just referencing someone else's. Why do you ask?" 

 

Arin began to speak, but Ross cut him off with gusto. "Arin wants to know if it's weird to pop a boner at the sight of seeing another human being nude." 

 

Arin laughed and kicked Ross's shin from under the table, resulting in him curling in on himself in pain. " No,  actually, I was just wondering, we're doing figure poses tomorrow." He gestured to the girls, "You guys did this last semester, right? I just wanted to know how it went down." 

 

They conversed, laughed, snarked, and poked fun at each other for nearly two hours. It was around 9 pm when they finally left the restaurant, continuing their playful arguments all the way back to the dorms. Ross planted a kiss on Holly's lips and hugged her before the group split, Holly and Suzy walking together to their room. Arin and Ross continued down the halls, eventually making their way to their temporary home. They collapsed on the couch together, and sighed in unison. 

 

Arin let out a deep yawn. "Fuck, I didn't realize how tired I was 'til now." 

 

Ross mumbled a response in agreement and he flopped his legs over Arin's lap, then pulled out his phone. Arin relaxed his head on the armrest of the couch, moving to lay on his back, Ross's surprisingly warm feet now resting on Arin's thighs. 

 

Arin nudged Ross's calf with his hand. "Hey, I'm gonna take a nap, could you wake me up in like an hour?"

 

"Yeah, man," Came his quiet response.

 

Arin yawned his thanks and closed his eyes. Within minutes, his mind began to reel in random events of his life, events from fantasy, memories of experiences, and blended them all together into a bundle of strange patterns of blurry colours behind his closed eyelids. 

 

Some time passed, and Arin's body had since relaxed and his chest rose and fell with even breaths. Ross didn't have the heart to wake him, even if he looked kind of uncomfortable. He carefully removed his feet from over Arin and stood up with a stretch, going to get the blanket from Arin's bed to lay it over his form. Ross tucked as much of the blanket as he saw necessary behind Arin's neck to support it a bit, and then lifted his head gently to lay some of the blanket there to cushion it. Smoothing the blanket out over his friend's snoozing body, he looked at him for another second before chuckling to himself very quietly. He walked to his own room and whispered a hushed "goodnight, Arin," before setting an alarm and crawling into his bed. 

 

Ross laid there for a second with a grin on his face, thinking " _what a fucking dork_ " before letting the enticing grasp of sleep take him over for the night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! You made it to the end of this chapter! Thank you so much for reading this, it means a lot! Comments/suggestions, Kudos, and/or bookmarks would be greatly appreciated~  
> ***  
> Follow [my tumblr](http://buttelf.tumblr.com/) for more video games, Game Grumps, art, and shipping!  
> ***  
> Art for this fic:  
> [[x]](a-painting-i-finally-finished-for-a-scene-in-my) [[x]](http://buttelf.tumblr.com/post/142204270588/lovelydoodling-buttelf-im-already-in-love) [[x]](http://buttelf.tumblr.com/post/142501982503/some-seriously-nsfw-shit-under-the-cut-this-is)


	2. Where to Draw the Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys finally get to meet the model they've been waiting for. Arin, unlike his best friend, makes a few... observations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thumbs up if you can name all the songs and bands I've used so far in this fic~  
> ****  
> Anyways, I've got some surprises in store for you guys. This isn't your regular old art class, oh no no no. I hope you guys enjoy, don't forget to bookmark this story so you don't miss any new chapters when they come out~!

 

Arin's body was awake before his mind was. The golden wash of the room warmed his skin that was exposed to the light, but also gave him a slight chill as a result of it not being covered by a blanket.

 

Hm... That was weird. He didn't really recall actually going to bed last night. What happened? Him and Ross got back from dinner, they flopped down on the couch, then he told Ross to wake him up from his nap-

 

Oh. Oh no.

 

Arin's eyes shot open, quickly and painfully adjusting to the light. He looked around himself. Yep, there he was, laying in exactly the same spot as he was left in. He frantically scanned the room for any signs of his friend, then calling his name. His attempts at shouting at him were deemed futile, his morning voice strangled and groggy, getting lost in even the silence of the dorm. He cleared his throat and tried again, this time standing up to search. His muscles ached and his body was cramping, the consequence of sleeping like the dead on a couch that wasn't meant to be even sat on for more than twenty minutes. 

 

"Ross?" He called and stood in the mess of the room. Nothing. He dropped the blanket from around his shoulders and it pooled at his feet, nearly tripping him as he stepped around. He was slowly getting his bearings together, dragging his blanket back to his chilly room and chucking it onto his bed. Arin tiredly pulled his glossy hair back into a tight bun and shook his head a bit to cause some pieces of hair to come loose. 'Naturally' messy - it suited him better. He tugged his shirt off from last night, relieved to feel the cold air all over his body. Jammed between the couch and the blanket, while not entirely comfortable, was very warm, and it started to make him feel slightly uncomfortable. He unbuckled and whipped off the belt around his waist as well, letting the metal hit the floor with a disgraceful   _clunk_.  

 

Next, he unzipped and peeled off the jeans he was trapped in for hours on end. They were strangely moist and grossly warm, like they had just spent the last six hours soaking up the sweat accumulating on his body while under the insulation of the blanket. Well... When he thought of it like that, that was probably what _did_ happen.

 

Ew.

 

He had been rifling through his drawers as these thoughts crossed his mind, looking for something comfortable to wear to class. He had just enough time to throw a pair of socks haphazardly over his shoulder when he almost choked on his own breath in panic. Oh, fuck, no.

 

 _Class_.

 

What fucking time is it? He whipped around, staring at the large, round analog clock that hung out-of-place on his wall. He cursed out loud and smacked a hand to his forehead when he remembered. _I knew I should have changed the batteries the moment they died_ , he thought. _Fucking idiot_.

 

The clock stared, dormant, back at him and he jeered. Of course it had to be NOW of all times when he didn't have his phone.

 

Well... Why didn't he have his phone?

 

Arin practically pounced onto the pair of jeans he'd just discarded moments ago. Shoving his hands into pockets and reaching for his phone, he jammed his thumb into the home button. Nothing. He pushed again. 

 

No.

 

He pressed his index finger onto the lock screen button. A moment of no reaction, and then a screen with a dying battery blinked on and off. The most mocking of " _charge me_ "s he's ever seen. 

 

 _No_.

 

Overflowing with anxious panic, he scampered out of his room and leapt his way over the mess of clothes, food and video games into the mostly-empty doorspace. He cranked the handle and whipped it open harder than ever, running out into the dorm hallway and turning towards the kitchen immediately. He took barely two steps into his sprint when he felt sudden pressure against him, and before he understood what was going on, a skull collided with his own. Before Arin and the other person went tumbling down, he winced at the intensely growing sensation of brutal pain that throbbed in his head. The two hit the carpeted cement with a horrible smack, and any belongings that they had on them were surely either crushed or scattered in the hall. 

 

Arin lifted his upper body with his arms and pressed his fingers deep into his temples, closing his eyes. He groaned in agony. The body below him shifted and mumbled something of a curse before he watched the person sit up.

 

"...Arin?" The voice asked, confused. Arin knew who it was immediately, and could not be more relieved despite the concussions he probably caused the both of them.

 

"Hey, Ross," Arin groaned, "w-what's up?" 

 

Ross tried to shake the dizziness from his head. "Just finished breakfast," he replied. Despite their situation, and with Arin's upper body being awkwardly suspended over Ross' lap, neither of them decided to move. Ross scanned Arin with a little bit more scrutiny. "Where are your pants?"

 

Arin craned his head and looked behind him. _Well, would you look at that_. He totally forgot to put normal human being clothes on before bursting out of the dorm room like a child on Christmas... Er, a nervous, panicking, about-to-have-an-existential-crisis child on whatever kind of holiday _they_ would celebrate.

 

"Uh," Arin very intelligently started, "I forgot." 

 

"I see that." 

 

They shared a brief moment lost in laughter, when the door beside them creaked open. A boy about their age stepped out, rubbing his eye with one hand and clenching onto the door handle with the other. He winced and looked down at the boys, who were still sprawled on the hallway floor. 

 

"Oh m'god, go getta fuckin' room, gaylords," the guy muttered sleepily. He ran a hand through the messy, faded green locks of hair that fell strangely nicely atop his head. 

 

Ross jeered at him and moved away from Arin to stand up, then held onto Arin's hands to help him up as well. He never broke his cold eye contact with the boy, and still gripped Arin's fingers even after the two were fully standing. Arin nearly shook his hands away, but as he looked between Ross and the other guy, he noticed a spark of some kind. On Ross' end, the spark burst into a fire of giggles. The boy reciprocated, and among them, Arin nervously breathed out a laugh. 

 

"Man, aren't you just a ray of sunshine first thing o' the mornin'?" Ross mocked in a heavy accent, and the boy laughed. 

 

"I'd be payin' attention to the _ray of sunshine_ you've got'n your grasp, Ross," he replied, a thick irish accent making Arin think a little bit harder about what he just said. When he finally understood, he blushed.

 

"Bah, fuck you, man," Ross swished his hand dismissively towards the stranger, who had laughed and made the move to retreat back to his room for more sleep.

 

Arin removed his hands from Ross' and raised an eyebrow, waiting for the Australian to explain himself. "Who...?"

 

"He's cool," Ross answered, leading the way back to their room. Arin rolled his eyes. 

 

"That didn't answer my question. What's his name?"

 

"Sean, I think. He told me to call him Jack. Not sure how those names are related at all, but..."

 

Arin hummed his response and nodded his head, then went to his room to put his clothes on properly. From beyond his walls, Ross' muffled voice vibrated through the structure of the room. 

 

"What were you running for, Arin?" He asked, voice raised. Arin froze. _Same old song and dance_ , he supposed. He ran out of his room once more, while tugging on a new pair of black sweats, and ran to where Ross was sitting on the couch. 

 

"Shit, what fucking time is it?" Arin asked frantically. 

 

"Dude, cool it, we've got like a half hour before class." 

 

Arin breathed and groaned his relief, walking back to his bed and flopping down onto it. He stuffed his face into the pillows. 

 

"Wake me up, like, 5 minutes beforehand, then." 

 

Silence, and then he heard footsteps approaching his bed. Ross dropped on top of him, making Arin shout, before the skinnier boy wriggled his way around the bed until he was laying shoulder-to-shoulder with his best friend. Arin flipped to face Ross on his side and gently let his head fall on the boy's shoulder.

 

"Dude," Arin commented.

 

"What?"

 

"How the hell are you going to wake _me_ up, if you're going to sleep too?"

 

Ross shrugged, making the bed shudder a bit. "Dunno," he replied, and rested his cheek against Arin's soft hair. The brunet scoffed at him and fished Ross' phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and setting an alarm on his own. The phone was dropped back onto Ross' stomach, who grunted, and then the two slipped into silence once more. 

 

Arin began to fall asleep very quickly, huddled against Ross's side; his hand curled around the other boy's shoulder and his arm draped over a slender chest. Arin listened to Ross' patient heartbeat as he breathed in time with his own, and before he knew it, his eyelids had fallen shut and his mind ran deep into thought. 

 

\----

 

Arin only woke after subconsciously acknowledging Ross' soft snoring from beside him. Soft brown eyes opened and focused on the gentle rising and falling of his best friend's torso as he slept. Every time Ross exhaled, Arin could feel his warm breath rustle the same parts of his dark hair. Along with it, Arin felt the vibrations of Ross' sleep through his head, where Ross' cheek simply collected the noise and then seemed to funnel it to the brunet. Arin really wanted to move his head. He could feel his neck starting to tense up, the arm he was laying on was beginning to go numb, and his body was getting to be a little too hot. 

 

Through the blinds, the blue sky peeked in and the peeps of baby birds outside made Arin feel tranquil and relaxed. Holly would be excited if she were here - probably looking out the window to see where the babies were. 

 

Ah, Holly. It seemed like a long time ago, but the girls were here a handful of hours in the past. Arin realized how nice the food was where they ate yesterday, chatting amongst themselves. The last thing he clearly remembered talking about was Suzy and Holly's experience painting with a live model. He couldn't wrap his head around how it _couldn't_ have been awkward, the model must have been very confident with themselves to just strip down and pose for a bunch of young adults, expecting them not to judge. 

 

Arin's mouth fell open and his eyes opened in shock. Aside from Ross' incessant snoring, he could hear his heart pounding in his ears as he reached for the phone laying on his friend's flat stomach. He blinked and prayed to every god he's heard of in the split second before hitting the home button.

 

After he squinted in the blinding light of the screen, he gasped audibly and jolted his head up, harshly hitting Ross' jaw in the process. Ross inhaled deeply and his head lolled away from Arin. 

 

"Ross," Arin said in a low voice.

 

No response. 

 

" _Ross_!" 

 

Blue eyes shot open and his head lifted off the pillow with worry. 

 

"Wh- what?" He demanded. Him and Arin shared about two seconds of stunned silence, and there Arin seemed to communicate with him telepathically. Ross shot a hand over his mouth and stared at his phone. 

 

"It's _9:30_." Ross said in disbelief.

 

"Yeah?!" Arin agreed. Ross was far too calm about this.

 

"School started at _9:00_."  

 

"No   _shit!_ Get moving!" 

 

The two of them scampered out of Arin's bed and ran around the room like maniacs, grabbing everything they needed, and everything they thought they'd need. They practically flew out of the room, slamming the door behind them in their flurry. Sprinting down the hallways with heavy school bags on their backs, they made it to their class in less than 5 minutes - of course, they were breathing hard and grossly warm. The boys stopped for a moment outside of the door to regain their composure. 

 

Chest heaving, Ross put his hands on his knees and breathed through his open mouth, looking up at Arin. "Ready- ready to paint some... Hot bods?"

 

Arin slumped against the wall and wiped his hair out if his face. "Ready as I- I'll ever be..."

 

The two of them took another moment to breathe before entering the room, walking as nonchalantly as possible to their respective seats. They were about halfway across the classroom when they noticed something strange. Everyone was sitting around and talking amongst themselves, scrolling through their phones, or staring off into space with headphones jammed in their ears and fingers tapping to the beat of their songs.

 

The boys walked up to their teacher, who appeared to be a bit frazzled. 

 

"And where were  _you_  two?" She asked, seemingly more amused than concerned. Nothing appeared to be happening anyways. "I recall telling your class to be early rather than anything else." 

 

Arin pursed his lips and made an _oops_ face while Ross just nodded his head apologetically. 

 

The Australian then put a hand around and rubbed his neck, looking to the ground a bit. "Uh, it was _my_ fault we're late, actually," he began. Arin wanted to yell at him to shut up. It wasn't any of their faults, they just fell back asleep and missed the alarm. "I forgot to reset my clock after our room's power went out last night, and Arin's battery died."

 

Well, _part_ of that statement was true... a small one. The battery died months ago. But now was not the time to acknowledge that fact. Arin just nodded and agreed instead. 

 

Their teacher placed a hand on Ross' shoulder, which actually made Ross lean back a bit in minute discomfort, and she smiled like she was empathizing with them. "Well, alrighty then. That's fine.The model's late anyways, so you two go grab your seats and wait."

 

The boys nodded in thanks and made their way over to the stools in front of their easels, plopping their stuff down and getting as comfortable as possible. Ross crossed his arms and the two made eye contact. Arin bounced his leg as he spoke, smiling at his friend. 

 

"Thanks for the cover back there, man," Arin laughed, "I don't know if we needed it, but it's smart to stay on her good side."

 

Ross just winked at him and giggled a bit. 

 

They expected to start soon, but the model still hasn't shown up. Arin was truly bored. He stared straight ahead at his canvas, trying to imagine what would be painted on it through his half-lidded eyes. Beside him, Ross bumped his shoulder. Arin was greeted with Ross holding an earbud up to his face with an expectant smile on the boy's own. Arin raised an eyebrow and put the earbud where it belonged, and when Ross turned up the volume, Arin immediately closed his eyes in bliss. 

 

It was _that_ band again. The band with the delicious beats and catchy 80s-style instrumentals. Arin was sitting silently and enjoying the music, and he didn't realize that nearly a half hour had gone by. Around them, the class was beginning to get restless. Through his free ear, he could hear kids mulling about "when is the model is going to get here?" and "are they even coming?" On the inside, Arin was beginning to wonder the same thing. Him and Ross were half an hour late for school and they hadn't missed anything at all. In fact, they probably could have missed the full hour and been fine...

 

Their song ended and the playlist continued onto a new song by the same glorious band. Ross was tapping his fingers on his arm as he read through some notes for another class while he waited. Arin looked at him from profile. He noticed how Ross' slender and pointed nose made a perfect path to the boy's thin lips. How his long lashes perfectly rimmed his remarkably stunning eyes. How his sly smile accentuated his entire face. The sharp cheekbones that lead to the hollowed-out cheeks he has.

 

Gay or not, Arin thought Ross was beautiful. Arin wished he could be as wonderful as Ross... He admired everything about the guy. Not just aesthetically, either. As much of a little shit Ross could be, he had to have been the truest of friends that Arin has ever had and he's always stuck by his side...

 

Arin loved him, to say the least. And Ross knew it. 

 

In his musings, Arin didn't realize that he'd propped his elbow up on the easel ledge and rested his face against his hand while he stared at his best friend... At least until Ross flashed that pretty smile of his and made a weirded-out face at Arin.

 

"What're you doing, man?" Ross asked innocently. No point in hiding it, him and Ross have said and done worse. 

 

"Staring at you," Arin replied, not in the slightest bit embarrassed.

 

"I get that. Why?"

 

"Admiring your raw beauty." 

 

Ross held his look for another few seconds before smiling genuinely and looking back down towards his notes on the table. Arin could see the boy's cheeks turning a bit pink, so he knows he's hit the sweet spot in Ross' heart. 

 

"Remember yourself, too, Hanson," he warned, " _or should I say,  Handsome_."  

 

Arin took a moment to process this, and then he let out a kind of laughter that only ever occurred when bad jokes were present. 

 

"Thanks, Ross," he commented. 

 

They spent the next few moments peacefully listening to Ross' music. Something sparked in Arin's mind, and he slapped Ross in the shoulder when he finally remembered. 

 

"Oh!" He exclaimed. Ross jumped and rubbed his shoulder, whining a complaint. "What was the name of this band, again?"

 

"Ow... They're called Tupperware-"

 

The art room door bursted open and in walked a tall figure. Arin, frustrated, let out a short _are you fucking kidding me_  after being cut off once again. He just wanted to know the name of the fucking band, for Christ's sake. 

 

The new person wandered in, shaking his head back and forth and looking around the room for someone. Arin was too busy trying to get Ross' attention to even notice who had showed up.

 

Their teacher looked at the man and force a smile, but her frustration flowed through her voice. "Hello, mister," she said patiently, "shall we begin then? We've lost enough time already," and then a laugh. 

 

"Sorry I'm late," the voice said.

 

Three words from a familiar voice, and Arin had turned his attention _completely_ towards this man.

 

He was wearing a pale blue housecoat and was holding his shoes in his large hands. The shoes weren't very fashionable, nor were they new-looking, and seemed to clash with... well, everything. 

 

Arin looked up the man's body. From over the housecoat he could make out slender hips and skinny arms attached to wide shoulders. His neck was surprisingly broad, considering his body, and Arin began to trail his eyes up to his face. 

 

An angular jaw shaped a beautiful face as soulful brown eyes looked around the room in nervousness. Arin stared at him for just a moment longer before his eyes widened and his mouth slackened. 

 

 _Oh my god_ ,Arin realized, _it's him_.

 

As if he'd said it out loud, Dan made direct eye contact with him. The man looked surprised, genuinely, but gave a brief smile before moving on. Ross was looking at Arin, as well as a few other students around him. Ross nudged his arm.

 

"What the fuck are you talking about? You _know_ this guy?" He asked. A few of the girls that sat near him were whispering, but Arin could only make out a few comments. 

 

"How does _he_ know him?"

 

"I'd like to _get_ to know him," another hissed. The other girls laughed. 

 

Okay, so it turns out that Arin did say it out loud. Fuck. He tried to hide his embarrassment by slumping behind the tall canvas and sighing. 

 

The chair in the middle of the large circle was shifted and then occupied by Dan, who looked towards their teacher. She walked beside him and put a hand on his shoulder, and with her other hand, she gestured to the class. 

 

"Students," she called, and everyone quieted down and looked at her, "this is Mr. Avidan. He will be your model for the next week." 

 

 _Avidan. Dan Avidan_.  A little redundant, wasn't it? Adorable.. 

 

The students all mustered a greeting, to which Dan held his hand up and smiled. "Hey, guys." 

 

Arin whipped his head towards Ross, who looked as surprised as he did. Arin smiled and mouthed the words, " _we get to stare at this guy for 11 hours this week?_ " 

 

Ross nodded in confirmation. 

 

" _Sweet_!"  

 

Ross muffled his snickering with the back of his hand to his mouth.

 

Dan arose from his chair (honestly, he wasn't sure how he was going to survive a week of posing in that chair for two and a half hours a day, it wasn't that comfortable) and he untied the string that held the thin housecoat together. Arin's heart sped up, pounding helplessly against his chest, watching Dan strip down. 

 

The fabric slipped off of his shoulders, revealing collarbones that jutted out slightly from his body like golden ore in a stone. Very defined arms revealed themselves to prying eyes and biceps flexed as the fabric dropped off of his body and to the ground. Arin's curious stare moved towards Dan's chest, which had thin, curled hairs spread evenly over it's surface. Dan's stomach was mostly flat, with a slight curve out wards before leading down to his pelvis... Wow, and there it was.

 

Some of the girls gasped, even some of the boys looked very surprised. Looking around the room, there were wide eyes everywhere. Arin covered his mouth with his hand to stop himself from releasing a grossly loud moan. 

 

Dan... Dan was fucking _hung_.  

 

The man looked bashful about it, smiling nervously and shaking a hand through his brown, frizzy hair. 

 

Dan looked over towards Arin, who raised an eyebrow and blushed in return. 

 

Their teacher told the students to prepare their paints, palettes and canvases, and while everyone else was distracted, Dan shot Arin a wink and a secretive smile. Arin's eyes widened and his mouth went flat before he bursted out into laughter. Dan reciprocated his fit of giggles in his own cute way - just the way Arin remembered - which got mostly lost in the noise of the classroom. Arin sighed happily and went to work with the other students. 

 

Ross looked over at him in response to his laughter and gave him a questioning look, but Arin just dismissed him with a shale o his head and a wide smile. 

 

The class was finally properly prepared, and their teacher assigned a pose to Dan. He sat on the edge of the chair and leaned back a bit, putting his hands behind him to support his body. One leg extended outwards, his toes pointed. The other leg bent and his heel sat on the footrest of the stool. Dan tilted his head back just slightly, exposing his beautiful neck. Brown eyes closed over and lips parted gracefully. 

 

He was fucking gorgeous, Arin had to give him that. 

 

The angle that Arin sat at made it so he was looking at Dan in almost exact profile, which he was definitely not complaining about. The man's features were so defined, Arin knew he was going to have fun with his painting. 

 

Their teacher put on some soft music over the speakers, some songs with lyrics, some without. The students in the class enjoyed the company of each other, Dan, the instrumentals, and the peaceful rustling of the leaves outside in the breeze. It was all so tranquil, so zen. Arin took a deep breath and exhaled calmly. He was truly enjoying himself at school for the first time in a _very_ long time. 

 

He looked over Dan's body once more before trying to imagine the same picture on a canvas. Thinking for a moment, he uncapped a bottle of white acrylic paint and another bottle of red and smeared generous blobs of colours onto his palette. He swished proportions of the pigments together to create a very pale pink, which he coated a thin brush in. 

 

Arin straightened his back and crossed his legs as they extended to the floor, sighing and taking one last glance at Dan's body before pressing his brush tip to the canvas. The brush slumped with the pressure and the canvas caved in slightly, and Arin dragged his hand downwards very carefully. He flicked his wrist as he finished his stroke, creating a crisp, tapered line of pink that seemed to just dirty the canvas. The pink was barely visible, even to Arin - he just wanted a colour that was pale enough to create guidelines with before he moved on to the real work.

 

He flicked in another line that ran perpendicular to his first - creating a barely curved outline of Dan's sharp jaw, which complimented the very basic shape of his face. From there, Arin dragged another line downwards to represent his neck, and then a much longer one curving shallowly to create a simple spine. The twirl of his wrist created a circle, marking down the point where Dan's hips were. After various other points and lines and shapes, he had the skeleton of a two-dimensional body sitting right in front of him. 

 

Arin looked back up again - Dan hadn't moved, obviously, and Arin realized that he'd have to give this guy his props after this class was over. Arin's neck ached just from holding himself in his position while he sketched, so he couldn't _imagine_ how Dan must have felt. The man's face wasn't marred with any signs of pain or discomfort, so maybe it wasn't do bad. Still, Arin would _hate_ to be in Dan's position. Literally. 

 

Arin swished his brush in the water and watched as the paint pigment seeped out into the liquid. The colour swirled around in a galactic mess in the cup as Arin watched - he loved playing with it. He rubbed the bristles of the brush against a sheet of paper towel that was resting under his cup and he dipped the head into a nice peachy orange colour. Arin mixed the paint with some white and a dash of red, mashing the substance around for full coverage. He thought for a moment, imagining what he wanted to see on the canvas, and pressed against the surface once more to smear the paint on evenly. He repeated his actions and continued blocked out Dan's body in base colours, altering the tints and shades as he saw fit. 

 

Once Arin was more or less satisfied with his shapes, he stared down Dan's body and took time to appreciate the way the sunlight bounced off of his illuminated skin. It gave him a soft, angelic glow, and the way his head was tilted back and how his lips parted in bliss made Arin blush. The man - like Arin has thought far more than once - really was godly. At least, he was godly when he wasn't giggling and joking around like a child. Even then, though...

 

Arin shook himself from his thoughts and noticed how the shadow of his chin was casted onto his neck and he decided to start there. Mixing purple with his current colour, he kept his cool and began creating the illusion of three dimensions via colourful shading. He had layered most of Dan's body in the precious shade of plum when his brush began to get a bit dry. Arin dipped it in his cloudy water, mixing it all around, and repeated his motions to dry it off. But, he didn't soak up as much of the water as he had originally thought, and he accidentally made his acrylic a bit too washed out. When he made his first stroke, the brush flicked an almost-perfect line of purple paint outside of _any_ of the lines he made. It branched out from near painting-Dan's chest and splayed down and outwards, ending the line in a drop of coloured water which began to drip down and then soak into the canvas. Arin's mind went blank and his breath caught in a gasp in his throat. 

 

"Are you fucking _kidding_ me?" He muttered. Ross glanced towards him, confused, and then to his canvas. He made a sympathetic face and looked back at Arin, who was facing him with a totally deadpanned expression. Clearly, Arin was unimpressed. 

 

"Shit, dude," Ross mouthed to him. Yeah. No kidding.

 

The boys resumed their own projects and Arin frustratingly stared at his canvas. God fucking _damn it_.  

 

After several more seconds of glaring heatedly at a painting on a sheet of fabric, he realized how his mistake actually kind of looked like a drop of water. Well, it technically was one, but he supposed it appeared to be possible to turn his mistake into artistic innovation. Arin was taking a risk and he realized that, but he diluted more colours of his paints and aimed the tip towards the canvas and he tapped the metal brush barrel with his nail. Flecks of paint splattered against the surface and a few lines spread out here and there, creating a Picasso-esque aspect to his portrait. It looked creative, colourful, somehow more lively than before. Arin quite adored it. 

 

Ross nodded his head at Arin, who noticed out of the corner of his eyes, smiled, and returned to work. 

 

Dan, on the other hand, was not having a - dare he say - particularly _enjoyable_ experience right now. His neck was beginning to get sore. His wrists were stinging under the weight of his body. The metal that was under his foot was beginning to dig into it, and he could feel the groove that formed in his skin there. The only plus side of this entire situation was the music, which Dan surprisingly enjoyed. Their art teacher had a decent taste in tunes. 

 

The song had since ended, and there was about a seven second pause between tracks that made Dan sink into the silence of the room. If he listened hard enough, he could hear the sticking of dry brushes to the canvases as the students removed them to soak the bristles again. The tapping intervals of acrylic paint tubes against wooden palettes. The calm, audible breathing of a few of them, followed by an occasional sniffle, were the only noises they made. No one was talking, not even whispering... Completely concentrating. Enthralled. The teacher's chair creaked a bit as she sat at her desk, glasses on, writing away on stacks of papers. Grading artwork, Dan assumed. These students were incredibly talented. If he was their teacher, it would be one hundred percents for everybody, they were that skilled. Then again, Dan supposed, that's why he wasn't a teacher. An art teacher, specifically. He smiled to himself and tried to move his mind to another place, just so he could keep himself in the zone.

 

Dan's thoughts whirred, but were completely drawn away from him as he heard the familiar hums of a synthesizer over the speakers. His heart fluttered a little and he moved his toes to the beat. His fingers, almost falling asleep, naturally began tapping perfectly with the instruments in the song while his feet continued to keep time. Dan couldn't keep himself in check - or in this position - any longer. He was sure the students had noticed his movements by now, and were probably questioning them. 

 

Arin was watching him excitedly recreate the song with various body parts, and he had a smile plastered to his face as he focused on Dan's tapping toes. Arin himself knew what song was playing, and couldn't help but bounce his foot to the beat. 

 

The first verse of the song began playing. If Arin focused carefully, he could see Dan's lips moving _very_ slightly to form the lyrics, whereas Arin just sang along in his head. He wondered...

 

Instruments came to life time and again through the song. Dan's movements became more exaggerated. Arin sat up straighter, as if he were in the front row seat at a movie he never knew he needed to watch. The instrumental part came close to the end, and a split second before the lyrics were set to come back on, Dan whipped his head up with a wide grin and made immediate, direct eye contact with Arin. Dan took a deep breath and Arin watched him in disbelief. 

 

" _Growing up it all seemed so one-sided_ ," he sang, perfectly, " _Opinions are provided_ ,"

 

Kicking his leg up and pointing it in the air, he threw his hand over his forehead dramatically.

 

" _The future pre-decided_ ,"

 

He thrust his open hand towards Arin, and then pulled it away longingly as if Dan were to lose him. Ross looked at Arin and made a lovey-dovey " _ooooooh_ " sound that went up and down in pitch. Arin just blushed furiously in response.

 

" _Detached and subdivided in the mass production zone_ ,"

 

Dan turned on his chair, totally facing Arin, before subconsciously spreading his legs at a comfortable distance while he flung his arms about wildly in song. Unfortunately (not really) for Arin, Dan's "I'm comfortable" space between his legs gave Arin a _full_ view of what was going on... downstairs... And Arin had to admit, he was kind of impressed... But he trailed his eyes back up to the man's expressive face and body. 

 

" _Nowhere is the dreamer or the misfit so alone_ ,"

 

Arin wasn't about to _admit_ that he was staring down Dan's dick for longer than he should have been... But Dan seemed to know already. The damn model himself raised an eyebrow as he belted out the lyrics and Arin was just now tuning into the noise of the rest of the class. The students were clapping to the beat, singing if they knew the words, and laughing their heads off. Their teacher had stood up from her chair in shock, staring at Dan's naked body slide back and forth with the music. Arin looked around at everyone else and shared their laughter.

 

What fun, what a surprise... What... _pandemonium_.

 

Arin felt himself beginning to actually sing the lyrics of the song, and when Dan heard him, he gestured to the artist himself. Arin was blushing, but he was in too deep to realize he was embarrassed. He stood up from his chair and dramatically posed on beat of the music, singing along with Dan, who still sat in the centre of the room. Arin didn't _quite_ know how to harmonize, so he didn't bother to sing anything in a key he didn't know. Dan, though, he knew. And oh _boy_ did he deliver. 

 

In perfect harmony, the boys looked straight into each others eyes and belted out the final lines of the song:

 

" _Any escape might help to smooth the unattractive truth_ ,"

 

As if it were rehearsed, they held out their arms towards each other. 

 

" _But the suburbs have no charms to soothe the restless dreams of youth_ ,"

 

The song came to a close. The students laughed and cheered. Arin was beet red. Ross was smiling in disbelief, staring between his best friend and this stranger... This _Dan_ , wondering just how much about each other the other knew. Regardless, it was all impressive. 

 

Their teacher, however, wasn't too sure about that. She stood still at her desk, staring down her students, wide-eyed and full of miscomprehension. The room died down in volume after the artists took notice. 

 

"Well," she said in a very small voice, "that... Has never happened before." 

 

Arin sunk down in his seat a bit, hiding more or less behind his canvas. The teacher made direct eye contact with Arin and she sternly placed her hands on her hips. 

 

"And you, Mr. Hanson," she began again, causing the brunet to become terrified all of a sudden. He _really_ could go on living his life _without_ being embarrassed in front of a room full of people. But she broke into something like a smile, and sighed, "I was not aware of your ability to sing." 

 

The room, including Dan, shared a few moments of laughter. They all agreed to some degree and turned their attention back towards her. Dan, however, glanced at Arin and winked, as if to say " _I knew."_

 

"In any case, we've run out of time for today," she announced, "please clean up your things and set your canvases in the storage room to dry." 

 

Arin was a little bit upset that he couldn't completely finish his painting, but he detached it from the easel anyways. The canvas was heavy in his hands as he waited in the line to put it away, and when he finally came back, he noticed that Dan had since put his housecoat back on. He looked kind of sore, which Arin couldn't really blame him for. There was no way that the position their crazy teacher forced him into could have been healthy.

 

The bell suddenly started ringing from above as the music started playing, and people began filing out of the doors to go to their next class. Arin had no rush to get to his next class. So he took his time; cleaning his brushes, spraying his palette with water and covering it up so he could save paint, dumping his paint water down the drain in other to wash it out and refill it. He was among the last people left in class - even Ross had left him, which he was fine with. Dan was chatting with the teacher, but Arin was too far away to overhear what they were talking about. 

 

Arin had just finished scraping paint off of his easel when he heard footsteps coming towards him. He looked up, shaking brown hair out of his face, and came face-to-face with a god. Dan smiled at him and held his fist out in offering to Arin. Bouncing his fist against Dan's, he smiled at him. 

 

"Sick singing job, dude," Dan commented. 

 

Arin shrugged, "Hey, thanks, man."

 

"I couldn't have done better,"

 

"Okay," Arin rolled his eyes and looked at Dan with a smile, "now you're just fuckin' saying that."

 

With a hearty laugh, Dan shook his head. "N-no! It's your voice, man." 

 

"My voice?"

 

"Yeah dude, you can hit low notes way better than I can. I would have had to sing that whole part an octave higher, but you nailed it," Dan explained. 

 

Arin stared at him for a second, absorbing that information. Wow, he thought. _Dan thinks I can sing. Fucking sing_.  On the outside, Arin chuckled. "Thanks, Dan."

 

"Of course."

 

The room went silent as the bell shut off and the students began to gradually disappear into rooms. Arin had kept moving to clean his things up, leaving Dan just to stand around and think while he watched Arin move. The brunet had finally finished his job and he was set to leave. With his bag thrown over his shoulder, he began to walk out of the room when he turned back to Dan and waved gently.

 

"See ya, Dan," he called.

 

Dan was broken from his deep thoughts. "Later, man." 

 

Arin made it about twenty steps when he heard footsteps behind him, running. At almost the same time, he heard the same gentle voice call his name in the echoing hallways.

 

"Arin!" Dan yelled. The one in question shot around and stood still, watching Dan approach. 

 

"What's up, dude?" Arin asked, still in no particular rush to make it to class. He was already five minutes late, so he may as well make it ten minutes.

 

Dan looked down at the ground, and then at himself. Blue housecoat with no clothes on underneath. No underwear, nothing. He wasn't even wearing shoes. His hair was probably messy from his dancing back in the classroom, and his body was sore from sitting still for so long. His point was, was that he was in no good position to ask this question. 

 

"Hey, uh... I was wondering... And you totally can say no if you really want to and I'll leave you alone, but..." He trailed off for about a solid five seconds before Arin prompted him a little.

 

"But?" He asked.

 

Dan rubbed his face with his hand before looking at Arin with a dopey grin. 

 

"Hah. Wow, uh, this isn't awkward at all," Dan added, and leaned in towards Arin a little more to make his question seem more sincere. 

 

A door handle shook behind them and a creaking noise sounded, followed by the shaking of a wooden frame. Arin gasped and turned, somehow far more aware of what was happening than Dan was. 

 

Dan barely got the opportunity to pronounce a word before they heard a voice speak up behind them.

 

"Hanson; class, _now_."


	3. Risky Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After art class' experiences, Arin has to survive the rest of the endless school day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's NSFW stuff and some major Rubberraptor fluff content coming your way~ This chapter is really chill for the boys. Enjoy it, lovelies!

 

Arin's face went bright red and he began stuttering, turning his body away from Dan as he took a step toward the class.

"I, uh, yeah. Um, I'll be right there, just-"

"You're already pretty late, Arin," Dan muttered just low enough for Arin to hear. Arin turned back to Dan. The younger had a pained look on his face - like he was torn between going to class and running off with Dan. Secretly, Dan didn't want him to leave either. He wanted to grab Arin's hand and walk with him around the world for the rest of his life. 

 _Some kind of first date_ , Dan thought. 

Arin stepped back from Dan again, nearly tripping over his flustered self. Dan parroted his movement and lurched forward, biting his tongue to stay still for Arin's sake. As foolish as it might have appeared, Arin looked truly conflicted. 

"Go," Dan prompted gently, "I'll talk to you later."

Arin nodded and offered Dan a smile. Following the teacher who went inside, he walked off to class with slight embarrassment. It wasn't like it hasn't happened before, as Arin didn't care for much more than art; but it was exponentially more horrible when his not-so-newfound crush just stood there, watching him enter the door at a pace that was agonizingly slow for them both. Arin shot his head around for a last image of Dan, taking in his whole body at once. The blue of his housecoat complimented his eyes and hair wonderfully. Arin would have to remember that. 

"...Arin," Dan warned, but he had a slight smile blooming on his face. Dan made a _'go on, now'_ gesture with his hands, and Arin giggled before disappearing behind the wooden door. It was shut behind him and Dan stood in the hallway  alone for a little while longer. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his housecoat and chuckled under his breath before turning to walk leisurely back to the art room. 

Humming a tune, he entered the room to grab his things and made his way back to a bathroom to change. He threw his housecoat off upon locking the stall door behind him and he looked down at his completely naked body. There was a warm churning feeling in his lower gut, and he had spent some time to realize that he was becoming increasingly aroused. He sighed and leaned his hot back against the coolness of the stall, tilting his head up towards the ceiling to try to clear his mind. 

It didn't work. 

He could feel the fluttering that started in his chest and crept outwards along his body, coursing through his veins and tingling the tips of his fingers. 

Flashes of images flew in and out of his mind each time he closed his eyes: an endearing smile, strong arms, a warm, broad body... He came off, simply, as fucking adorable. Or adorably fuckable. 

 _"Fuck,"_ he hissed.

Dan let out a groan at the thought of it - Arin laying on his back, hands tied above his head. A hot, blushing, flustered mess and writhing with each touch Dan laid on his soft body. 

Dan ran his hands down his own body and he let out a puff of hot air into the suspicious silence of the bathroom stall. He curled his fingers around his half-hardened dick, stroking up and down gently. He imagined pressing sweet, warm kisses down the other man's neck, shoulders and chest. Dancing his fingers along the soft curves of his torso. Relishing in every noise, every swear, every movement Arin made under Dan's control. 

He brought his left hand up to his lips and pressed his tongue against his palm. A brief taste of metal coated his taste buds - residue from where he rested his hands on the stool in the art room - but he didn't care. He brought his wet palm down to his dick and coated it as he thrust his arm, the warm salvia slicking his movements which caused him to exhale shakily. 

He ran his right hand through his hair and pulled where his fingers got tangled, enjoying the pinpricks of pain on his scalp mixing harmoniously with the pleasure he felt all throughout his heated body. He ran his thumb over the tip and pressed a blunt nail against the slit, his body responding to his stimulation by shivering even in the heat of the bathroom stall. He leaned his body forward, placing his forearm above his head against the wall to support himself. His body was arching and flexing, his breaths ragged and harshly being pulled from his lungs as he bucked his hips into his own wet hand. His fingernails shone with the sheer coat of precum that leaked from his dick, only adding to the feeling of a hot shame... 

Jacking it to thoughts of man he'd practically just met, someone whose last name he only learned a couple of hours earlier because a _teacher_ had said it. Dan felt the heat of a blush reach his cheeks, his breath bouncing off the wall and back at his face. His ears burned with nervousness; a certain kind that only pushed him to become even more and more turned on. 

Dan's open mouth released strangled moans and gasps, which echoed in the acoustics of the room. Only after his own voice faded did he hear the loud squeak of the bathroom entrance door open, and footsteps padding inside. 

Dan froze. He was almost close, he knew that, but if he stopped now and waited for the stranger to leave, the feeling of ecstasy that was washed over him would eventually be replaced with ache and overstimulation. 

Dan shot his eyes down and looked at the ground. His feet were bare and his shoes hung from the coat hook of the stall, tied together at the laces. The housecoat was hung up underneath the shoes. His small bag of clothes sat on top of the toilet paper roll cartridge, and he realized that nothing was actually touching the ground. No one would see him under the stall walls, and if they couldn't hear him, no one would know he was there. 

Dan slowly continued thrusting into his tight fist and he glanced to his left. The toilet, lid down, sat beside him and Dan thought for a moment before seating himself on the cold lid with a gasp of shock. He leaned back; way back, to the point where his spine was laying uncomfortably against the metal pipelines that held the toilet into the wall. It wasn't pleasant at all, but Dan knew he would just have to deal with it right now.

He brought his legs up from the floor, resting his left foot against the toilet paper holder - which resulted in his leg being pushed up very close to his body, opening him in a way Dan's never experienced before. His other leg leaned against the side wall and he laid there, all hot and exposed like the complete bottom he knew he was. The complete bottom he wanted _Arin_ to know he was.

He pumped his hand again, biting down hard on his lip after he realized how much more keyed up he had been than before. Now that he was laying down, he didn't have to worry about his knees shaking and buckling as pleasure ripped through him, he didn't have to worry about cum getting anywhere else but on himself, and he was now completely hidden from view. 

Dan felt desperate. He wanted to get off quick and come hard. With his free hand he brought up two fingers to his open mouth, generously coating them in saliva before circling his index finger around the tight ring of muscle that was exposed to the openness of the stall. He writhed slightly at the invasiveness but gasped at the familiarity. He closed his eyes and made himself focus a bit more on the task at hand, as it were. 

Dan knew he had musical talent, but it _really_ showed in situations like these where he forced himself to pump his hands at two very different beats. His attuned sense of multitasking _always_ benefitted him when it came to this... This hot, dirty, desperate self-fucking that he had to treat himself to. 

Now, Dan's focus had shifted. He ended up in this position because of Arin, but now he stayed here in hopes of finding... Well, release. Dan was going to be honest with himself - he hasn't been laid in a while, and the sex he _did_ have was nowhere near as satisfying as he wanted it to be. It's been far too long. Dan was started to get pent up. 

A recurring ache in his wrist flared up every time he circled his fingers inside of himself, his arm bent at an angle awkward enough to make him hurt. But the pain had nothing on the pleasure. 

His mindset shifted once more. Now, he was stuck on the prospect of some sort of exhibitionism. What if someone were to knock on the stall door, demand what he was doing in there? What if the person outs Dan on fucking himself in a university bathroom? He closed his eyes and bit down on his lip, muffling his moan as much as he could. Whether or not people were walking in and out of the bathroom, whether or not they could hear him, Dan just didn't give a fuck anymore.

"Oh m-my god..." He mumbled.

Behind his closed eyelids he saw himself in his exact position: hand around his dick and fingers in his ass, but laying on the comfort of a bed instead of in a bathroom stall. Dan imagined himself staring at another figure through half-lidded eyes, letting his head roll back and releasing hot moans every time he hit a sweet spot on his own body. He put on a show for the other person, the sound of his hand smacking against his own body every time his fingers bottomed out inside of him filling the silence of the imaginary room. The figure stepped closer and began to take form by Dan's wishes. There, in front of him, watching him fuck himself on his own fingers, was Arin. 

In Dan's mind, Arin crawled towards him and leaned down over his body. Dan's legs were already spread apart, but Arin opened them more by pressing his warm hands against Dan's trembling thighs. 

In reality, Dan responded to his thoughts by forcing his legs apart more, even if his efforts were restrained by the narrowness of the stall. He let out a rather loud hum of frustration, begging for more from no one in particular.

Back in his head, he saw Arin look down upon him with expectant, hungry eyes. Dan felt Arin position him so that his own ass was suspended in Arin's lap, creating a  new, deep angle which provided Dan with easier access to his own prostate. The words Arin's spectre spoke made Dan melt into a blushing mess _. "So hot, baby."_

Dan shot his eyes open, which stung in the light shining down on him. Gasping amidst the simultaneous noise and quietness of the bathroom, Dab repeated Arin's 'words' in a slurred murmur. 

"So _hot..._ "

The scene in his mind cut forward, to where Dan was suddenly getting _completely_ railed by Arin. Dan was still in the same position - laying on his back, legs split open so far it hurt, his ass resting against Arin... The only difference now, was that Arin was pumping his dick in and out of Dan, hard and fast, wet and tight. Dan was taking it like a bitch, moaning sinfully loud as Arin rammed him. 

Dan, finding his prostate with his fingers and rubbing against it, writhed in pleasure against the metal pipes of the toilet. It hurt, a lot, but he took the pain with the pleasure and mixed it together to create a shot of stimulation that was immensely powerful. In his mind's eye he saw the picture of Arin fucking him hard and Dan knew it was more than enough to shove him over the edge. He rubbed hard against his prostate once more, his orgasm tearing through him without repent. Dan shouted his pleasure out, moaning high and tight into the echoing room, completely disregarding the existence of anyone else in that moment. White ribbons of cum decorated Dan's stomach and chest like icing on a cake. His back contorted in a high arch, his legs removed from their resting places and instead moved to almost close in on himself. His toes curled involuntarily, as if his pleasure had hit a dead end in his body and decided to take control of him... Which, essentially, it did. 

Dan pumped himself and fingered his prostate until he was completely empty. Only when he felt the sensation of overstimulation rack his body did he draw his hands away, dropping them to his sides to hang limp. He stared at the ceiling with a blissful, tired expression, the last mental image he painted promising to be stored away in the recesses of his mind forever. 

Then, a gentle knock on the door. Dan nearly jumped out of his skin, sitting up on the toilet seat and gasping. A gentle voice came from the other side.

"You... You okay?"

Dan thought for a moment, smiling to himself and then letting a yawn make its way through his tired body. He looked at the door ahead of him and chuckled with a lightheaded feeling in his body. 

"Better than ever, man. Thanks." 

The other person let out a hum and a " _just makin' sure_ " and proceeded to leave the room, the door closing behind them. Dan reached down and pulled out a handful of toilet paper from the dispenser, balling it up and wiping himself down. Cleaning off the remnants of the hardest orgasm he's ever conjured up in his _life_.  

After he looked more or less like a normal person rather than a pornstar, he changed into his regular clothes and folded the housecoat to put it in the bag. His socks and shoes were untangled and placed where they belonged on his feet. He opened the stall door and the first thing that hit him was the chill of the room. He hasn't realized just how _stuffy_ his stall was, how much he had gasped and breathed and moaned, how much heat his body was letting off. He found relief in the cool air, something he never thought he needed until now. 

He deposited his things on the counter and began washing his hands. One pump of soap. Two pumps, just to be sure. He scrubbed his hands together for longer than he likely needed to and then rinsed them off under the warm water. Dan still felt it all there, though. Four pumps of soap this time, and he washed his wrists and then moved on to his forearms; his thumbs massaging at the worn-out muscles from his own... misadventures. He shoved his soapy arms under the water and it all drained away. Dan rubbed his arms dry with paper towels and then gathered his things to leave. 

It was almost lunch time when Dan finally walked out of there, and he heard a bell tone and music blasting on the speakers as he strolled to his car at a leisurely pace. Students milled about as Dan was pulling out of the parking lot, and he sat patiently waiting at the crosswalks watching them pass in large groups. He was waiting nearly three whole minutes to exit the campus and he was stopped by an absurdly huge line of people at the last one... A solid wall cut him off from freedom of the campus and he sat in silent agony the entire _damn_ time. He began subconsciously counting the people walking by to pass some time. 

_One,_

_Two,_

_Three,_

_Four..._

He saw another mob coming and Dan prepared to sit there until the end of the lunch period. He just wanted to go _home_ , for God's sake.

As if the big guy answered his prayers, a boy stopped the rest of his friends by sticking his arms out to the sides. Across the street, he yelled at the other students to wait a minute, and then he waved Dan through. Dan waved back at him and rolled down his window to prop the stranger with a "thanks, man" and devil horns with his free hand. Dan accelerated through the last crosswalk and turned off of the campus, driving straight towards his own apartment. 

He mindlessly wondered when the day would come that he would be driving Arin back to his place-

 _Okay_ , Dan cursed, _how_ _about we think about anything else expect for Arin?_

As snarky as he let it be, his reeling mind responded with a blatant _how about no?_

He drove on, turning up some music in an attempt to drown out his thoughts. It wasn't working. Dan figured that after he got back to his apartment he might have to hop in the shower and... Wash something _else_ away.

 

\----

 

Arin sat in his and Ross' little cove, reading over his notes for his political science class. The reason the teacher was so mad at him was because the class was writing a test and Arin was too late to class to have time to finish it. So, his teacher is making him write it after school. Arin bit down into an apple and sighed, flipping the page with no real satisfaction painted on his face. 

"Hey." 

Ross dropped his things and sat down beside him, curled up into a ball and shivering slightly in the cool breeze of the afternoon, he looked at Arin. 

"Hey?" Ross repeated. Arin shot his head up and stared.

"Oh," Arin clued in, "hey." 

Ross poked his friend's apple-filled cheek and Arin retracted with a muffled " _gah_ ". In a more sensitive voice, he moved into Arin's field of view, his own hair flopping to the side with gravity. "You okay, Arin?"

Arin just shrugged and swallowed. A piece of apple that he apparently didn't chew hard enough was scraping down his throat slowly, and his face contorted in pain and put a hand to his neck. "Agh- God," after a few more seconds, his pain finally subsided and he nodded, "yeah, I'm alright." 

Ross raised an eyebrow and Arin made a questioning face.

"Well, what'd you _want_ to hear?" 

Ross leaned back and put his hand to his forehead dramatically, speaking in an exaggerated impression of Arin's voice. " _Oh, Ross_ ," he mocked, " _I just have so many problems! I've fallen in love and I can't get up! My art is too good for this world! My talent and good looks are overwhelming_!"

Arin broke into a fit of laughter, shoving Ross away with a giggly "Shut up, man!"

Ross looked at him with either a melancholic expression, or one of relief. Arin couldn't tell, but they stared at each other for longer than was probably acceptable, even for couples. Arin felt his lips twitch into a grin, but nothing was particularly funny. 

Ross' beautiful, crystal-blue eyes settled on Arin's lips as they moved. "There's that smile," the Australian whispered.

Arin turned away bashfully and went back to reading his book, his lips working against him and splitting into a wide, embarrassed grin. Ross chuckled a bit and started reaching into his bag to get something to eat. A few moments passed between them where no words were exchanged, but Ross thought he'd just make sure. 

"But, you are alright, aren't you?" He said patiently. Arin looked at him and nodded.

"I'm... better now," Arin spoke after a moment of consideration, "thanks." 

They exchanged lovingly warm expressions and moved on to their own things. Arin to reading, Ross to his phone.

Every so often, they made idle conversation about whatever was coming up, the things they had heard, the people they've seen. Nothing was too important about it, per se, but Arin cherished these moments and he was sure Ross did, too. 

 

\----

 

They packed up their things as lunch came to a close and the boys started walking and talking during the trip back to class. The lunch bell rang and music started playing, some song Arin's never heard of. In fact, Arin didn't think _anyone_ has heard it, it was so strange. Him and Ross continued to traverse the packed hallways, but holding a conversation in the noise deemed to be impossible. 

They reached the junction where they had to split up to go to class. Smiling and waving goodbye to Ross, who returned the gesture, Arin broke away from him and walked to his class alone. He greeted some acquaintances he met in the hall and within the biology classroom and he moved to take his seat. Across the room, he watched Holly move in and around the classroom to find her spot. She was talking to their teacher for a moment, and when she turned away, her skirt swished around her. Pink hair was done up with numerous bobby pins and fancy clips. Pastel colours were nearly all she wore, but she pulled it off with grace and a style unique to her. Holly looked absolutely lovely today, Arin had to say. He would have to remember to tell her so later. They made eye contact and the old friends smiled and waved, before Holly moved to her own seat on the other side of the room. 

Arin then looked down at his biology lab and stared at the writing on the page. 

From that point on, Arin zoned out. He tried to focus, he really did, but his mind wasn't having it. In his textbook, he made small drawings and made fun of the words, pictures and diagrams that littered the pages. 

There was a young boy on one of the pages. He had an adorable smile and curly blond hair, the kind with ringlets so tight you could stick your finger in it and not be able to see it anymore. He admired the vivacity of the kid for a moment before pondering about his locks. Dan had curly hair! Well, his was also really frizzy. It wasn't blond, either. It didn't matter, Arin really loved it. He wanted to put his fingers in it, pull on it, play with it. In every sense of the word. 

The raw sexual attraction that Dan exuded was really too much for Arin. It was overwhelmingly hot. something about Dan was just so...

_So..._

Hm. Arin was having a hard time putting his finger on one word to describe the man. 

As his mind reeled to find that word, he put his hand under his chin and at least pretended to work. His fingers pulled absentmindedly at some of the coarse hairs of his beard, Arin sighing at the cool, weird sort of feeling it gave him. It distracted him so much, he wasn't even focusing on what their lovely bio teacher was saying... And that didn't happen often.

There was a muffle of words in his mind as it wandered other places.

"Arin," a voice coaxed.

He glanced up just by his own volition, and out of the corner of his eye he saw his teacher staring _right_ at him. Arin had to do a double-take before he held her gaze. 

"Arin," she repeated, but giggled a bit. 

"Yea- yes?" Arin caught his tongue. _You're talking to adults, asshole._  he scolded himself.

His teacher held up a sheet and read the question out to him again. He didn't need to read his own sheet to answer, but he indeed developed his train of thought as he spoke. "My hypothesis..." He thought for a split second, "It was that the soap and solution had to have acted like some sort of separator, like... between the bonds of the DNA." 

His teacher nodded, taking his thoughts into consideration, and Arin continued.

"The soap must have acted like... Like a..." _What do I even mean?!_ "Well, you know how soap, like, cleans things?" He asked, laughing at his own sentence. Really? Soap? _Cleaning_ things? Who would have thought. 

Students around the classroom chuckled along with him and a few mocked him out of good heart. Arin put his head in his hand and broke into laughter once more, and even their teacher was giggling away. 

She coaxed him into explaining himself again, this time with a uncontainable smile. "Yes, the rare and sacred cleaning soap," she commented.

Arin started his response, cut himself off with a snort of laughter and had to continue again. "I meant, soap helps loosen the bond between grease and a surface, right?" He suggested.

"Yes," their teacher agreed. Oh, she was _so_ still mocking him!

"Well, I guess I took that into consideration with the strawberry," he said, "the soap might have acted like a lubricant to separate it from the rest of the strawberry." 

Other students were quiet with the consideration of Arin's response, some humming in agreement to confirm _their_  answers, others nodding because they hadn't thought of it. Arin thought he started a debate, which he was _so_ ready to discuss. But his teacher had to cut them short in order to finish the lesson, which kind of put a damper on his excitement... But he understood. 

After the students offered their attention to their teacher, they began talking about DNA separation and Arin was becoming more and more interested. He was raising his hand, answering questions, and talking with the people around him in discussion of a concept. 

Arin felt good exploring the idea of the separation of DNA structures, but he wasn't totally sure he understood how the process worked. He would have to talk to Holly about it after to get a better understanding.

His thoughts were cut short by the bell, obnoxious music scaring him half to death, and he threw his things into his bag, thanked the teacher, and walked out. He strolled to his next class with an inwards smile plastered to him, still thinking about his small successes in their discussions. He walked into his next class and exhaled sharply, the pleasurable feeling of actually getting somewhere almost _immediately_ replaced with unease for the class to come. 

Motherfucking _calculus_.

Arin sat through the agony in silence, sighing while the teacher went on about the lessons. Arin knew most of this stuff already - or the basics, anyways - just because he was good with numbers and memorizing formulae. About three quarters of the class was Arin's most _favourite_ thing: listening to a boring old guy drone on about numbers for two hours. 

Without consequence or remorse, Arin zoned way the fuck out and didn't return. He was lost in thought about art class, about Dan, about everything that happened today. What did Dan want to ask him before he had to go to political science? He looked panicked, or embarrassed. Maybe he was about to ask Arin if he had seen Dan's sunglasses laying around... Or something. Or that Arin had stuff between his teeth. Which didn't make sense... Because Arin never ate breakfast this morning. No _wonder_ he was so tired.

As if on cue, his stomach churned and grumbled and he put his hand over it. As if _that_ would get it to stop. Arin sighed and unfortunately just had to put up with the discomfort his body was in, despite eating lunch jot too long ago. When he wasn't totally focused on his learning like he was in biology, he was instead trying to think up every reason why he _shouldn't_ focus on the teacher.

When his tangent thought came to an end, he was staring at his calculus textbook with a blank expression. The rest of the class was working in almost dead silence and Arin used this to his advantage, pulling out his notebook with all of his doodles in it and continuing his sketches. 

He made more semi-realistic drawings of his character... Of... Well, Dan. It was Dan, Arin finally accepted that thought. _Dan_ was posing coolly on his page, a mop of curls almost devouring his head as a whole. A dopey smile painted his face. A set of broad shoulders framed his body, with a long torso attached to it. Sweet hips and pretty skinny, long legs were penciled in and Arin was just working on the shading when the bell _finally_ rang.

 _Thank fucking god,_ Arin sighed. 

He threw his things in his bag haphazardly and burst out of the room, excited to get away from all things mathematical. He got outside and walked briskly to his room, keeping a sharp eye out for any... Familiar figures on the way. Namely, Ross. Or Dan. Dan would be nice.

Unfortunately for him, no one but strangers graced his eyes. Arin cracked open the door and was inside before Ross was anywhere to be found, which was unusual. Ross was normally excited enough to get out of school he would just make a beeline for home. No wasting time talking to friends, because why do that when he could be in bed sleeping? Or drawing? Ross always says: " _why get new friends when the ones you have share the same interests? We can all make it, together."_

Whatever he meant by " _make it_ ", Arin didn't know, and never bothered to ask. Amidst his pondering, Arin found himself in his own room, sitting on his bed. It was still kind of messy from that morning, the sheets wrinkled and folded, the pillow thrown about and the blanket in more of a ball than Arin thought was possible. He organized himself and his room, and by about the time he finished, Ross came in.

"Arin?" He asked. 

"Yep, in here."

Ross showed up yawning, stretching his arms above his head which bared a stripe of skin across his thin body from under his shirt. Arin laughed at his scrunchy face, and the other boy smiled in response.

"I'm so fucking tired," Ross mumbled. He walked over and flopped onto Arin's bed in the _exact_ same way he had done that morning, except now Arin wasn't already laying there.

"Ross," Arin scolded, "I _just_ tidied up in here, I don't need your Australian ass messing it all up again." If Arin was mad, he would have asked Ross to move. But... He wasn't, and so he didn't. Instead, he threw the rest of his dirty clothes into the hamper beside his dresser and he dropped down beside Ross on the mattress.

Ross grumbled at the shifting, face-down into the pillow. Arin pushed his head, trying to claim more pillow-space for himself, but Ross just replaced his headrest with Arin's soft body.

" _Ross_!" Arin complained. 

"Yes?" As if the little brat didn't know.

"Get off of me, you fuckin' weirdo," Arin giggled, tickling Ross' sides to spur him back to life. Ross only tensed and let out a laboured gasp, trying to fight the sensation. 

"N-never! You slept on me this morning," He exclaimed. 

Arin eventually just gave up. Ross was right, so he supposed he'd have no choice but to return... The favour? 

"But why," Arin asked softly, "why _me_?"  He wasn't really complaining, but he just wanted to talk to his dear friend now. He felt Ross full-on lean his head on nearly the centre of Arin's chest, and through his shirt he felt cold and then heat from Ross' gentle yawn. 

"Because you love to cuddle - and I know that for a fact, so don't try to fight me on it - and I like go cuddle, so it would only seem right that we cuddled together." Ross mumbled against his skin. 

Arin smiled, blushing a bit and he carded his fingers through Ross' soft, blond hair as he looked up to the ceiling. Ross shifted to get comfortable and Arin followed his movements, but he had to wrap his arms around his friend in order to keep him from falling off as Arin struggled to move the blanket out from under their bodies. 

Arin didn't want to stand up, and Ross clearly didn't either, so without much of any respect for Ross' boundaries (if the Australian even had any _left_ ) he hoisted Ross' entire body on top his own and lifted his own hips up to tug the blanket under them. Once it was out of the way, Arin dropped them back down and kicked it under his feet to pull it closer, and he finally got it to lay comfortingly on top of their bodies. 

Despite their (Arin's, mostly) struggles, Ross leaned up and pressed his face against the side of Arin's neck teasingly. The Australian was being gayer than Arin ever was, and they both knew it.

In a mockingly feminine voice, Ross commented, "O-o-oh, I _do_ love a man who can pick me up and move me around like that."

Arin burst into warm laughter. "Ross- fucking, shut _up_ ," he playfully flicked his smaller friend in the side of the head, then laid his hand their afterwards. "If you weren't dating Holly, I'd be convinced you were gay as shit. You and your twink body would be _so_ into dudes." 

Ross gasped in 'disbelief'. "How _dare_ you? I am a man of wealth and class," he defended.

Arin rolled his eyes and pressed a silencing kiss to Ross' warm temple, wrapping his arms securely around him under the heat of the blanket. As they both drifted off to sleep, Arin rubbed his best friend's back with a genuine tenderness that made Ross melt...  just a bit. He couldn't let Arin _win_!

With a tired slur, Ross managed a quiet statement. "I will not _stand_ for such mockery." 

Arin chuckled and patted Ross' back dearly before letting his own eyes close as well.

"It's a good thing you're laying down, then." 

 


	4. Light Beneath the Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ross has a bad dream.

 

It was very late - or very early - when Arin finally opened his eyes. His room was dark and silent, and he had no way to see the time since his phone was tossed to the ground from before he went to bed. Or, from before _they_ went to bed. Arin tried to look down, barely able to make out Ross' resting form using the light of the street lamps that peeked through the top of the blinds. 

Ross must have moved around a lot in his sleep, because his straight hair was mussed and it stuck up in all directions. He was breathing evenly and pretty peacefully, indicating to Arin that he was still in deep sleep. Ross wasn't the _heaviest_ of sleepers, so Arin tried to keep his movements and noises to an absolute minimum. He wanted Ross to rest for as long as time would allow. 

Arin closed his eyes again, but his mind was swimming with ideas and concepts that made it too hard to get back to sleep. So, he lay there, staring up at the white ceiling while he sorted his thoughts. 

Ross mumbled in his sleep every so often: soft moans and grumbles as responses to whatever was happening in his dreams. At one point, Ross let out a pained groan and shifted atop Arin's body. The motion was jerky and broken and Arin heard Ross opened his mouth to clearly express the word "D-don't..."

Through the very many long years Ross and Arin have been friends, Arin couldn't recall his friend mentioning anything about having night terrors, so Arin was able to rationalize that perhaps it was just a bad dream. It had to be bad enough if Ross was groaning about it in his otherwise quiet slumber. 

Arin didn't know what else to do, so he ran his hands up and down Ross' back in an attempt to soothe him. He rubbed his fingers alongside his tensed spine, pressing his lips close to Ross' ears and whispering flush against him. 

"Hey, hey... Shhh..." Arin murmured. Ross stirred still, but at least he stopped moaning.

Arin spent as much time as necessary trying to calm Ross down, but he did so without speaking any more. He ran gentle fingertips along the soft skin of Ross' arms in hopes of distracting his mind from whatever was going on in his dream. Ross subconsciously raised his body so his face was aligned with Arin's, but Arin could see the reflection of light in shining blue eyes. His eyes looked... dead, like he was staring blankly off into space, of which just happened to be Arin's face in the darkness. He looked like he was still asleep, but with his eyes open. Strangely. 

"Ross?" Arin pressed his hand gently against his friend's face, the pad of his thumb stroking his cheek. He was surprised when Ross suddenly dropped like a fly, but Mr. Bad Dreams smashed his forehead against Arin's nose on the way down. Arin let out a yelp, throwing a hand up to hold his nose, and tears welled up in eyes in response to the pain. Alarmed and now clearly awake, Ross gasped and jumped to sit up fully and he stared at Arin directly. 

"A-Arin?" Ross' voice was shaky and ragged with sleep. Arin moved both hands to press against the soreness, groaning at the throbbing that he felt along the bridge of his nose. 

" _Fuck,_ Ross..." He grumbled, his hands muffling the noise. "What the fuck was _that_ for?"

Ross was silent for a moment before he responded. "What was _what_ for? You're the one who yelled."

"What the fu- of _course_ I fuckin' yelled, man! _You're_ the one who skull-bashed me in your weird-ass sleep-thrashing!" Arin said in a low, hissing voice. Even in his anger, he was considerate of the other people in their dorm rooms, still trying to sleep.

Ross wrapped himself in the blanket and looked at him with an expression of sorrow, which Arin was able to make out clearly in the dim orange wash of the room.. "I... Did?" 

" _Yes!"_

Ross looked to the side and rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh... I'm sorry, Arin. I really didn't mean to. I didn't even know." 

Arin didn't respond to his apology, but he didn't think he had to. "Are you okay?" Arin asked.

Ross raised an eyebrow, "I could ask you the same question." 

"Well," Arin started, "the answer to that would be a solid _no_ ," he snickered a laugh and Ross let out a nervous, guilty chuckle. "What were you dreaming about?" He asked worriedly. 

Ross exhaled and then yawned heavily... Maybe he didn't sleep as soundly as Arin thought he did. Ross looked conflicted and he dismissed Arin's worry with a shake of his head. "It... Eh. It's stupid." 

Arin sat up with him, not at all bothered by the fact that that he just noticed Ross was straddling his hips. Ross was draped in Arin's blanket and he would have looked pretty adorable if he wasn't  pained. "Hey, it's okay, dude," Arin offered, "you can tell me, I won't think it's stupid. Well," Arin corrected himself, "I _probably_ won't think it's stupid."

Ross looked back at his friend, as if considering the possibility. "I... Oh, okay... Okay." He confirmed. Arin gave a thankful smile and nodded to prompt the smaller boy. 

Ross took a deep breath - one so racked with labour and was so shaken, it sounded like he had just been crying for the past few hours. "This is gonna sound so lame," he mumbled, mostly to himself, but as a warning to Arin as well. "Um, it was a dream about us." 

 _"...Us?"_ Arin pressed. He raised his eyebrows in a suggestive manner and gave Ross a flashy smile.

Ross shoved his shoulder and snorted. "Not like _that_ , you fucker. That's in _your_ dreams." His smile melted away and he avoided Arin's watchful eyes."No, uh, I mean _all_ of us. You, me. Holly and Suzy, too."

Arin became slightly wary. "Uh, what was going on?"

Ross hummed in his thought. He focused his gaze on his hands, which lay crossed over Arin's chest. He curled his fingers nervously. "We... We were all just... standing inside a store, downtown..." Ross began. 

Arin didn't have any idea where this was going, where it would have gone to disturb Ross that much.

Ross pushed himself to keep going, "Suddenly, there was screaming coming from outside. And then the doors of the store closed with the person - and all of us - trapped inside." 

Arin was holding his breath, listening to the fear laced in his friend's voice. 

"Alarms went off," he mumbled, "then, there was a guy standing in front of the four of us. I... I didn't know what was happening. He told us to get down on the ground, and we all obeyed." 

Arin was sure Ross could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he listened. Ross' fingers flexed against his skin.

"He... He held a gun out... It was, like, a pistol or something. It was pointed at Holly. At her head." Ross' voice was very heavy and Arin could tell he was trying hard to fight back tears. One of Arin's hands came up and he laced his fingers through Ross' to comfort him a bit.

"I felt paralyzed," Ross said guiltily, "I couldn't do anything other than yell. I heard Holly tell me she loved me. That she always would. And then..."

Arin felt a stinging behind his eyes and nose and his own breath caught in his throat. He didn't force Ross to speak, or encourage him, because he already knew what was coming.

"And then he pulled the trigger."

Arin bit on his tongue to keep himself from choking up. This was Ross' time of need, not his. He didn't press for details. Ross didn't look like he wanted to talk about Holly's fucking _death_ any more than he needed to. Streaks of dim orange ran down Ross' cheeks, being his tears catching the light from outside. Arin didn't make an attempt to dry his friend's tears until he was finished his story.

Ross lifted one hand from Arin's chest and ran his trembling fingers through his hair as he gathered the strength to spit up the rest of the nightmare that racked his brain.

"Suzy was on the other side of me," he said sullenly. His voice was wavering. "She was holding my hand between both of hers." 

Arin couldn't fight it anymore. He took a ragged breath in and squeezed Ross' hand hard.

"There was a point where we looked at each other... Time seemed to slow down," Ross said. He seemed like he was worn out, exhausted from forcing himself to remember the gruesome details to spill to Arin, which made Arin feel horrible. "Her makeup," he started, "it makes it hard to read her expressions sometimes," he pushed a smile. Arin mirrored him. "But here, I could see nothing but fear. She looked terrified."

Arin could only imagine. Suzy's makeup running with the tears of pain after watching Holly die. The tears of the inevitable, as if she knew it was going to happen to her next. The tears of frustration, the tears of letting someone down. Of bittersweet memories. Of the destruction of friendship. Of pure, unadulterated love.

"A loud bang... and then a spot of red spread from her chest. Right over her hear- heart," Ross was choking up now. It killed Arin to see him like this. His own heart felt like it was being torn up just listening to the emotion behind Ross' words.

Ross pressed his hand to eyes in an effort to dry them, spreading the soft glow of light over his face as his skin absorbed the moisture. 

"I... This guy, he looked between you and me," he said, "he was so angry. I don't know why. But his gun rested on you."

Arin felt weird listening to his own death sentence. 

"I don't know why, but... On you, I was freed of the fear," he mumbled. Arin had no idea what he was talking about, but Ross didn't hesitate to explain himself. "I knew what I wanted- no, what I _had_ to do - and I forced myself to move in front of you. I couldn't do it for Suzy, for Holly... I had to for you."

Arin's own tears flowed down the sides of his face, towards his ears and neck with gravity. He breathed unevenly.

"But... It was like I didn't even exist in the dream, like I was just a spectator, or something."

"What do you mean?" Arin asked cautiously.

"The bullet... It went through me, or something. Hit you in the chest." Ross pressed his hand to the centre of Arin's body where it lay, and he curled his fingers into a tight fist and squeezed. Underneath his friend's hand, Arin felt an imaginary stinging pain from a bullet piercing his skin.

"You fell backwards onto the ground of the store," Ross explained, "I remember leaning over you and staring into your eyes. I wanted you to get up so we could leave. I was yelling at you. All you did was look at me - _through_ me, even. You gasped once and placed your hand weakly on my face." Ross was quiet. Arin let out quiet gasps of sobs. "And then I... And then I..."

"Collapsed. On top of me," Arin finished. It made sense now, everything Ross did in that part was because of Arin. The hand pressed to Ross' face in the dream, was Arin's _own doing_ while Ross struggled against him in his sleep. Trying to fight his death.

A meek nod followed by a pathetic, helpless sort of laugh from Ross, and the tears began flowing like waterfalls down his tensed face. His eyebrows were turned up in anguish, his lips trembling as he spoke, looking Arin directly in the eyes. He's never heard Ross say anything with so much impact to him in his entire life.

"I... I watched you _die_ , Arin." 

He turned into a mess of tears and choking sobs and he dropped against Arin once more. Arin immediately engulfed Ross in his strong arms, pulling their bodies flush and Arin closed his eyes tight, pent-up tears forced out from behind his eyelids.

The boys cried into each other's arms for several minutes, occasionally mumbling soft words of comfort against warm skin. Ross was sniffling, trying to regain his composure, and Arin was gripping the boy's hair harder than perhaps he needed to. If it hurt, Ross didn't say anything. 

Ross held Arin around the neck, cradled against him and pressing his face between his own arms and Arin's neck. Arin could feel the moisture of his friend's tears accumulating on his skin, and every so often he squeezed his arms tighter around Ross, who responded with a nudge of acknowledgement of his own. 

After quite a long time, Ross finally raised himself from Arin's body, but their grips on each other remained intact. The spot where Ross' tears absorbed into his neck felt cold, now that it was exposed to the open air. Him and Ross looked into each other's eyes, not smiling, not crying, not anything.

They tried to read each other. Arin shifted his gaze from one of Ross' eyes to the other, then he eventually broke out into a gentle, patient smile. 

Ross smiled gratefully back at him and untangled his arms from around Arin's neck to trap the brunet's face in his warm hands. Ross lowered towards Arin, taking a quivering breath in before pressing his lips against Arin's, eyes slipping shut. Arin followed suit and hummed appreciatively against Ross, resting his hand against Ross' back and rubbing softly. 

They moved their lips against each other very briefly before Arin tugged gently on Ross' shirt. In response, Ross pulled away. Arin breathed heavily and they shared a... certain "look".

The kiss wasn't anything new between them. Arin had introduced Ross to the idea many, many years back. Back then, Arin just wasn't sure how else to express the endless barrage of loving emotion he felt for the other boy, so he resorted to kissing him. Not too long after, Arin realized he was gay, but that didn't deter Ross. In fact, it seemed to spur him on. He liked to tease Arin because he knew that half the shit he was saying was true for the brunet. Ross wasn't dating Holly when him and Arin first started sharing kisses, so she's always known them to do that. And she was okay with it, even still. She's watched him and Ross full-on make out on multiple occasions.

Focusing back on Ross, Arin dragged him down on top of himself for another brief kiss before rolling their bodies over, pinning Ross to the bed. Ross giggled a bit and tangled his legs around Arin's hips. They shared another endearing gaze and Ross hooked his wrists around the back of Arin's neck. Ross drew his eyes up the parts of Arin's body that he could see, and eventually his gaze rested on brown eyes full of care and appreciation.

"I love you, Arin." Ross said quietly. It wasn't shy, but it was backed with emotion and a kind of grace that made Arin's heart swell with happiness.

Arin snuggled up against him. "I love you, too." 

He pushed his face into Ross' neck and bit down, more in a playful manner than anything else. Ross giggled away and thrashed at the tickling sensation, pressing against Arin's shoulders in a faux-attempt to push him off. 

The boys wrestled like kids for a few more minutes and then they eventually settled down beside one another, still situated very close. Arin wasn't anywhere _near_ ready to let Ross out of his embrace. He did, however, want to know his thoughts.

Ross had his eyes closed, but Arin knew he was still awake. In a hushed voice, as not to startle him, Arin spoke up. "You okay?"

Ross' eyes fluttered open and he found himself at eye-level with Arin. A smile formed on his lips, but there was a twinge of sadness there as well. "Yeah. It was just... weird. To watch you leave. All of you. But, yeah, I'm alright. Thank you, Arin." He said sincerely. Arin nodded slightly in an _of course_ sort of manner. He would have let it go at that, but he felt like he had to go the extra mile for Ross. 

Arin touched their noses together and whispered quietly, his warm breath ghosting across Ross' lips. "You know I'd never leave you, Ross," he said, "not under my own volition." 

Ross' eyes swelled with tears once more, smiling warmly at him. Arin swiped the falling tears away with his thumbs, Ross' eyelids falling shut to lay his head against Arin's. 

They were silent for a long while before Ross bumped Arin's shoulder with his own. "Arin," he sighed, "what time is it?"

Arin looked at Ross with a half-disappointed and half-entertained scowl. Ross was closed between the back wall and Arin's body, meaning it was up to Arin to move and find one of their phones. However, he completely misjudged how close he was to the edge of the mattress. When he went to roll over to see where his phone was, he ended up launching his own body over the side of the bed and he hit the floor with a loud thump and a yelp of surprise. 

The force of Arin's fall tugged hard on the blanket that was crudely wrapped around both of their bodies, and Ross was pulled to the very edge of the bed before he decided - by his own _will_ \- to drop gently on top of Arin. 

The boys exploded into laughter and made an attempt to sort themselves out, but Ross wouldn't budge. Arin had to put up with his situation and sprawl himself across the floor, smacking his hands around to search for his phone.

After a few more moments, he finally located it and tapped the home screen button. The darkness of the room was immediately replaced with a blinding white and pink light from Arin's lock screen background, and both boys groaned loudly in discomfort. 

Arin had to look away for a moment and he rubbed his eyes to get used to the brightness so that he could turn it down. Once that was done, he looked at the time.

With a yawn, he nudged Ross, who was reclining against Arin's legs with his head resting on the back of Arin's knee. "Dude, it's almost one in the morning." 

Ross lifted his head up at that. " _One?_ Are you serious? How can it be _that_ early? I thought it was, like, four or five."

Arin thought for a moment before considering the only possible response. "Well, we _did_ go to bed at, like, four in the afternoon."

Ross shrugged, which Arin could feel against the backs of his legs. "That would do it, then."

Arin nudged Ross as a warning that he was going to move, so the light-haired boy had to put his ass in motion. Ross sat up and stood, stretched, and laid down on the bed once more. _Quite counterproductive,_ Arin figured.

Arin slid his phone onto his bedside table and stood beside the bed, looking down to Ross who was watching him move around the room. They shared a split second of eye contact until Arin put a hand on his hip and un-ironically cocked his head slightly to one side. 

"Are you even tired?" Arin asked.

"Not really," Ross admitted, "but I don't think I have the courage to go back to sleep right now, even if I was."

Arin nodded silently and then thought for a moment, smiling as an idea cracked open in his mind. 

Ross wanted in on his ingenious plot. "What's your game?" He wondered.

"Why sleep when we could fuck shit up?" 

Ross raised an eyebrow, "Arin Hanson? _Fucking shit up?_ If you didn't say that to my face, I'd never believe you said it at all."

Arin shrugged with a slightly sheepish smile. "Even _angels_ deviate from the light, sometimes," he pressed a hand to his chest in a gesture to himself, to which Ross scoffed loudly.

Arin laughed, but he wasn't turning back on his word. _Live a little, right?_

He grabbed Ross hands and hauled him up into a seated position on the bed, and then paused. He still had soft hands in the grasp of his own, but there was no tension, no force, nothing. Arin was giving Ross every opportunity to back out. To go back to sleep, or even just play video games until they had to go to school. 

Despite the chances, Neither of the boys budged. 

Arin responded by creating tension in their arms to drag Ross out of the bed, waiting for him to regain his balance and composure in the space around him.

"Arin-" he stumbled around in the darkness, arms out, trying to search for his friend's body.

"Don't worry, I've got you, boo," he whispered, reaching out to Ross and tangling their fingers together in a sloppy handhold. In reality... Arin didn't _have him._ At all. He was, really, as spatially lost and as confused as Ross was. Arin knew that they were in his room, and that was just about it. He had no idea how many steps he'd taken in what direction, but he knew he took several away from the bed. So, he would just have to turn around, and...

When Arin's body moved, his hand swung back and smacked something. It made a hollow noise, and then half a second later, the clattering and bouncing of solid plastic on hard floor made Arin cringe. 

In his hand, he felt Ross's entire grip on him tighten with sudden fear as the clattering began. "What the _fuck_ was that?" He hissed.

"Deodorant," Arin sighed in response, still struggling to find the exit from his room. He slapped his hand against the wall for a bit before he found the opened door to leave. He pulled Ross through it with him, and then guided him through the dark mess of the rest of their dorm room. Despite it being late at night, and being awake _way_ past their 11:30 pm curfew, Arin was buzzing. He had a smile that only he could feel as he squeezed his hand around Ross'. 

"Where are we going, Arin?" Ross asked curiously.

"Shh..." Arin said, pressing a finger to Ross' lips. Ross let out a gentle gasp of surprise at the unseen contact, but he didn't move away. "We're going on a little adventure."

"I thought we were going to 'fuck shit up'," Ross quipped.

"Depends on your definition." 

Ross laughed gently as him and Arin slipped through the entrance of the dorm, stepping into the cool atmosphere of the hallway. Ross clicked the door shut and the two peeked around doors and hallway intersections before running around sneakily like they were in a cartoon. 

Still hand-in-hand, the boys ran down to the main floor of the building. To their right, across the foyer, there was a set of glass doors. Lights shone through the glass and bounced on the reflective tile of the foyer, and Arin looked at Ross in the soft glow.

Arin nodded his head in suggestion of the door. 

Ross smiled excitedly. "Yeah." 

They walked to the door and Arin placed a hand on the handle to swing it open. However, the door caught on the deadbolt and jolted Arin's arm back before the door fell back to where it came from. 

"Well then," Arin thought aloud.

Ross stepped forward and place his hand on the deadbolt lock, using the light from behind the door to see. With a simple flick of his wrist, he clicked the lock open and pushed the handle to open the door.

Ross looked at Arin with a face that clearly said _c'mon, dude_. _Really?_  Arin laughed in disbelief and they walked through the doors together. Ross was a ball of giggly energy, even at this hour. Arin could only speak for himself; he felt the tiredness in his body, but it was subdued by the adrenaline and curiosity of the buildings he'd never gotten the chance to explore. The two idly talked about whatever topics came to mind, which slowly bled into new ideas and conversations. 

They popped into open classes, leaving behind their prints in the form of doodles on the whiteboards in colourful makers. As they became more and more ambitious, and less caring of their situation, they talked louder and even began singing. Their voices bounced off the walls and down the hallways, a fading echo leaping forward in their wake. 

They began running down the hallways without feeling any sort of exhaustion or need to stop. Arin always found that running through school hallways was never tiring. Primarily, because it was like some sort of rebellion. You weren't _supposed_ to be running, and that's what made it more exciting - even if there was no one around to tell them no. Watching the doors and posters on the walls whip by them as their legs did their best to keep up... Watching Ross flying down the hall beside him... Looking ahead to the endless line of rooms, some doors shut, some open to the hallway that fed them into the cafeteria... The dot in the distance - the cafeteria - that kept growing as they kept moving... It was all, so... 

 _Fun_.  

Arin couldn't say he has had this much fun in his entire school career - no, arguably, his entire _life_ \- as he was experiencing here. He was ecstatic to be sharing it with his best friend.

The two of them entered the cafeteria and were washed in darkness. All of the lights were off, and the campus lights from outside were the only source of visibility in the entire room. Arin felt like he was in space. A huge, black, open area, running the risk of hitting something he'd never be able to see sitting in front of him. Pain. How exciting!

The boys slowed down to a stop, resting against what they figured was a pillar that stuck out, reaching from the floor to the ceiling. With no warm bodies, lights, and functioning heat, the cafeteria felt like a meat freezer. It was cold and dead, and Arin thought that there must have been some open windows around them. He swore he would be able to see his breath if he could see anything at all.

After a few moments of letting their breathing catch up to them, Arin and Ross carefully explored the expanse of the cafeteria. They found the low lunch tables, seeming large and spacious with the lack of students occupying them. In the dim light, they found the wall of one of the fast-food restaurants that lined the cafeteria. However, obviously, in the middle of the night, no one would be there to operate any of them. A metal grate was closed over the entire entrance of the shop to prevent stealing. 

Ross dragged his fingers across the grate as they passed by it. Then, they began sliding across a cement wall, and back onto a grate of another restaurant. Arin came to a stop, and so Ross mimicked him. 

Ross leaned back against the grate... At least he _would_ have, if there was a grate even _there_. He had already leaned too far back before he realized nothing was behind him, and with a flail of limbs and a panicked yell, he dropped to the ground. The smacks of his open hands and the hard clunk of his elbows both hitting the floor made Arin feel pain simply by _hearing_ it. 

"Ross?" Arin asked into the darkness. In response, a groan of pain. He heard Ross move to stand by listening to the rustling of his clothes, his shoes lightly tapping on the tile floor. Arin walked towards Ross' location, wary of whatever Ross ran into, so he crouched a bit and stuck his hands out in front of him to feel for danger before it felt him. However, his hands completely missed the only area the metal grid stood in, causing Arin to be unaware.

"Ross, what did you- _Gah_!" Arin walked face-first into the grate, the thin metal hitting his face in the weirdest of places. It rattled as it was shaken by the force and Ross snickered from somewhere beside him. "What the hell?" Arin demanded.

"Right?!" Ross exclaimed, and Arin could barely make out the image of Ross throwing his hands up in complaint, but he very clearly heard the sounds of his hands slapping his sides as they came back down. 

Arin slid his hand across the grate, just like Ross had done before. Except for this time, it was with purpose. He was trying to discover the gate by feel, the insufficient lighting not doing much for his straining eyes. Arin found a gap in the wall - actually, now that he felt it more, the wall just... _ended_. What the fuck?

Arin was patting his legs. "If only I had my phone, dude. I want to see what's up with this place." He went a few more moments using his mind and fingers to map out his surroundings and he was so focused, that when he saw a blinding orb of light shining into his face he angrily shook his head away. Then...

"Wait, wait," Arin said, very slight agitation in his voice, "we've been out here for, like, half an hour, and you're only _now_ remembering you have your phone on you?"

Ross shrugged. "What's an adventure if not for the _unknown world_ part?"

"The unknown world of darkness?"

"Right," Ross confirmed. 

The two turned their attention back to the grate, where in the light, it became obvious why they had fucked up so badly. The gate wasn't even completely _closed_. Ross made a questioning noise.

"Now, why d'you think they'd leave it like this?" Ross wondered. Arin shrugged and walked inside the opened store. It was a convenience store as far as they could tell, several racks of candies, gum and chips lining the walls. There was the gentle hum of a refrigerator somewhere in the room, but there was no lights on the appliance to indicate its location. Arin walked towards the racks of candies. Everything was left untouched and meant to stay that way until daytime, but he almost couldn't help himself. Arin caught Ross' eyes in the white light of the iPhone, and when he turned to the blond, he was looking at Arin with apprehension.

"And you aren't gonna steal anything, _right?_ " Ross demanded, more of a rule than a question. 

Arin rolled his eyes and smiled deviously. " _No_ ," he answered, "no stealing."

"That's what I thought."

Time went by as they browsed through the junkfood, the two of them picking up various bags of things and showing them to each other, exclaiming their wishes about the treats. Eventually, Arin started grabbing things... But he never put them back down again. Ross made a chastising sound and walked towards Arin when he finally noticed. 

"Ah, ah, ah! You put those down, Arin!" He shouted, "you've done nothing to deserve those!" 

Arin scoffed, "Pft, like I'd _have_ to. They should be giving this shit out for free given the horrors they put us through every day," he explained, "Besides, it's not like this place is a family-owned store or anything."

Ross raised an eyebrow. "And? So what?"

"So," Arin looked at him, holding a package of M&Ms in his hand, "I'm saying that these multi-million dollar corporations won't suffer from a couple-a boys _theoretically_ taking candy from them." 

Ross was quiet for a while. He hadn't thought of it that way, but... Still. As right as Arin was, it didn't make a difference that it was still _stealing_. Arin could probably see the discomfort on his face, but  he knew Ross wanted the candy as much as he did. Of course, it wasn't that hard to guess. It's fucking candy. Who doesn't want that?

Ross was shaking his head gently. "No, no..." He was saying.

Arin thought for a moment before smiling to himself. "Okay, no rule-breaking," he said, much to Ross' comfort. "Can you stay here for like five minutes?"

Panic began building in Ross' chest at his friend's words. "What, Why? Where are you going?" He asked questions in rapid succession, and Arin could sense his unease.

"Hey, whoa," he soothed, "you can come back if you want, but I'm going back to the room."

"For what?" Ross nearly whispered. 

Arin chuckled and held up the packages of sweets. "Money."

At this development, Ross smiled. He _knew_ that Arin's better judgement wouldn't let him steal those candies. For safe measure, he made Arin leave the candy on a table so that _none_ would be taken, to which Arin immediately complied to do. 

Now that he was comfortable and sure that Arin would come back, Ross handed over his phone to Arin so he could find his way back to the room without, like... Breaking a leg, or something. 

Arin thanked him, and then him and the light were gone, leaving Ross alone in the pitch black expanse of the huge cafeteria, afraid to breathe, afraid to move. The echo chamber-like construction of the walls around him absorbed his noises and then threw them back at him. His breathing was uneven and he hasn't noticed until just now that he was _freezing_ cold; he was shivering and his teeth were chattering in an attempt to create friction.

 It was strange, he didn't feel like he was alone in this place. Not even in the cafeteria, but... The convenience store that he was curled up into a ball and sitting in the corner of. He couldn't explain it; it was just something he felt in his gut. His gut lead him to victory many times in video games, so why not trust it in real life?

 _Because video games are fictional, easy to predict, and there's no real consequences to dying?_ His mind reasoned with him. His own words felt like a slap across the head.

 _Yeah, but-_ He thought.

 _No buts._ Damn, his mind was sassy as hell. Is _this_ what Arin has to deal with? _Just wait for Arin to come back and you can leave._

Or, you could check this place out and find out if your "gut instinct" was right or not.

Fighting against the voice fighting _with_ himself, a frustrated growl escaped his forcibly clenched teeth. "Shut _up!"_  he shouted into the darkness. Echoes of his own voice were splintered and split and bounced off multiple walls at once, causing Ross to look around as if someone was repeating his own words to him. But no one was there to respond. No one heard him, no one knew he was there.

Ross closed his eyes, which somehow made his world much darker than it had been before. Behind his eyelids danced patterns of colour, his eyes shifting around to see them more clearly. His twisted mind began to see random people's faces and horrifying beasts in the swirls, and he knit his eyebrows together angrily. 

 _"Stop..."_ he groaned. He felt himself becoming more and more exhausted at the images passing by in his mind. Then, his breath caught in his throat and he flexed his body in fear.

Flashes of light bloomed in a nightmarish dance behind his eyes and a face clearer than any he had seen all night stared right back at him.

It was _him_.


	5. Realign

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys do their best to recover from Ross' breakdown in the dark cafeteria.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is definitely a lot shorter than I would have wanted it to be, but I really wanted to get it published before school got unbearable. Plus, the themes I'm planning on between this chapter and the next chapter would have clashed if I'd put them all in one. 
> 
> Regardless, I hope you enjoy!

**_C-SHHH!_ **

"Leave me _alone_!" Ross yelled. He threw whatever he was holding in his hand - a big box of Arin's Smarties, he thinks - and its contents rattled as it skittered across the hard tile floor.

Ross opened his eyes wide, forcing himself to look in front of him. It wasn't like it would make a difference, all he saw was darkness. The barely-existent light that shone through the windows was not nearly strong enough to help Ross make out shapes clearly at all. He felt like he was being ripped apart starting from his mind, forcing him to see things the way it thought he should see them.

It felt like hours - an infinitely long time to be tortured by the person... the spirit, _whatever_ it was, and Ross found no comfort in his own actions or thoughts at the moment. In fact, it was his thoughts alone that were destroying him.

Ross screamed Arin's name into the emptiness, cursing himself for deciding to stay behind in the store. Ross knew what he was afraid of, and the dark made up a part of that fear. Right now, it was his only fear. Which was unusual, especially because these dreadful thoughts have been seeding in the back of his mind ever since Arin woke him up. He thought Arin must have taken him around the buildings because it was bright and clear and not stuffy like it was in Arin's bedroom. He was giving the blond a chance to run his worries away. Ross was thankful for all of that, he really was, but right now his mind was dead-set on painting pictures on the black canvas of night.

Ross was backed against the corner of the wall and the counter, curled up so tight he could barely breathe. His shaking hands were clamped against his knees, showing no signs of letting go.

He watched as a frozen picture of Arin appeared in front of him; it was painfully familiar... Arin was on his knees, looking straight at Ross with eyes filled with terror and sorrow. Just as the vice grip of Ross' hand on his leg had loosened so that he could thrust his arm out to reach Arin, his image dissolved in front of him as if he were grains of sand in the wind. Ross imagined a gunshot, a flash of light, and the next thing he knew, he was laying on the floor of the convenience store, struggling and gasping for air. Between choking sobs and fruitless attempts at shouting for help, the young Australian's eyes slipped shut and failed to open once more.

 _"Ross!"_  came the echo of a familiar voice from across the cafeteria. Or, maybe, it was the remnants of his slowly shattering memories of the person he called his best friend.

"Ross..." the voice called again, laced with concern. Ross tried to force himself to open his eyes, but his brain wasn't having it. A headache was forming from the intense tension that was forming in his temples. All he could do was muster up a distressed groan against the cold tile floor.

A white light flashed in front of him and then disappeared. Footsteps traveled around him and then paused. Then, both came back at once, closer and closer.

The rhythm of shoes against the ground got quicker as the pace sped up, and before Ross' mind could even think about what words he would say, he heard the clattering of a phone - _his_ phone, presumably - against the ground.

Arin's heavy breathing was failing to help him calm down in his state of urgent panic. He had absolutely _no_ idea what to do. Ross' face was cold, his hands even more so, and he wasn't responding even to Arin's most forceful attempts at alerting him.

Arin placed his arms around Ross in a sort of protective embrace and leaned over the Australian's chilled body. Arin couldn't even tell if the other boy was _breathing_ or not.  The moment he thought Ross was getting somewhat warmer, he carefully pulled his friend away from the counter's corner and laid him flat on his back on the floor. Ross' phone was still screen-down on the floor and the white light was shining right into Arin's eyes, so he picked it up and held it between his lips while he surveyed the other's still form.

The light wasn't strong enough to make out Ross' definitive movements, so Arin placed a shaky hand against where he figured Ross' heart would be. There was a heartbeat, thank _god_. It was surprisingly rapid. About as fast as Arin's, but the boy's breathing was very shallow. Arin's mind immediately went to the worst possible afflictions and tears stung in the corners of his eyes when he thought of the aftershock.

Taking a straining breath it, Arin scooped up Ross' body under his arms and struggled for several moments to stand up, taking wobbling steps to regain his sense of balance.

The phone was still between his lips, but the flashlight was doing him no good while it was aimed straight down at Ross' body. Arin took longer strides than usual to be able to sense an object's existence with his feet or legs, rather than him crashed into it and sending them both tumbling.

After what felt like a day, Arin got them both back to the dorm room in relative safety. Arin was sweating and breathing hard, having to carry Ross' weight around in his arms for far longer than he's ever done. The breaks he took at several points in his trip only made it take longer, but it was necessary. He kicked their door shut with a slam and he winced, not meaning to wake anyone else up. He stumbled over the messes that cluttered their room, mentally noting to get Ross to help him clean it later, and eventually they made it back to Arin's own bed.

Right back where they started. Arin wasn't sure it that was good... or bad.

He gingerly laid Ross down on the bed and covered him as completely as he could with the blanket. Arin knew it wouldn't be enough to warm him up. He needed way more, right now. He flicked the lights on and cringed in the light, blindly throwing discarded shirts and pants in the bed's general direction. As he was layering those clothes on top of the bed surface to help improve the blanket's insulation, he noted on the improving colour of Ross' skin. He was definitely looking better than he was when Arin found him in the cafeteria, but that also could have just been the different lighting. Arin truly hoped that was not the only case.

Arin walked over to shut the lights off once more, not wanting to psych himself up for his mind to bring him back down again. The world went dark in a split second, but he still managed to pull a short stool up to the edge of the bed to sit down on. He pressed his hot hands against Ross' cool forehead, hoping that the other boy would feel better as soon as he did so. In vain, Arin allowed a tear or two to run down his face.

"Ross..." A desperate whisper tumbled from Arin's lips, tears blazing a wet trail down his cheeks and neck. He knelt down and kept pressing his hands on different parts of Ross' exposed skin to at least reheat the surface of his skin, and when he thought that Ross' skin temperature was becoming more akin to his, he smiled.

Arin leaned his tired head against his extended arms, flexing his fingers to press them against Ross' neck. In the silence, Arin started crying. His head was pounding and his chest was tight with guilt. How could he have even _thought_ that leaving Ross in the cafeteria alone would have been a good idea? This entire situation was his fault. He should have just taken Ross back with him. He shouldn't have cracked under the temptation of the sweets in the convenience store. They were having such a good time before... all of this. Sobs wracked Arin's body and ached his throat as he struggled to breath normally. He felt the tears absorb into the blanket where his face rested against Ross' body. He lay there, shivering and quiet and still, letting his mind hit him over and over again with how this all went to hell because of _him_. After he had calmed down somewhat, he let his eyes slip shut for a minute just to relax, but before Arin even knew it, he was fast asleep.

 

\----

 

Ross awoke with a sputtering cough, a tickle in his throat causing him to thrash as his lungs forced air out of him. A warm weight was resting against his hips and he looked down to see Arin slumped against him, sleeping soundly even after Ross had just choked himself awake. The blond looked around the room, the morning light making it much easier to see. Arin's room was a disaster, there were clothes and other objects scattered across the hard floor and even more clothes were piled up on top of his bed. _Arin's_ bed. The bed that _Ross_ occupied, and Arin was forced to sleep on the side of it.  Ross' hand was pinned beside his own body and under Arin's head, and even though it was hot and he couldn't feel his fingers anymore, he just didn't have the heart to move it.

In his state of exhaustion, Ross couldn't recall very much from what happened last night. He was sore and even though his body was warm, on the inside he could still feel a chill from the cold cafeteria. His stomach dropped as memories of the terror he faced yesterday returned to his head as an insistent reminder of his discomfort. He forced himself to take a deep breath and he closed his eyes once more, making sure that the images his brain created were about anything _but_ last night.

But, of course, now that he had thought it, his mind would stay permanently fixated on that fact. _Fuckin' hell,_ Ross thought. He mentally slapped himself over the head.

His resting state resulted in him looking like a corpse. His head facing upwards toward the ceiling, a stagnant expression gracing his features. He was laying flat on his back and his arms and legs were unmoving; his chest rising and falling, following a very steady rhythm. His heart was settled and its gentle beating in his ribcage gave Ross something to concentrate on.

He was slipping deeper and deeper into sleep when the gentle removal of the weight on his hip brought him back to the real world again. He was aware of Arin's watchful presence over him, but he did not make a move to let the other boy know that he was awake.

Arin's gentle hand pressed against his forehead, a gesture not mistaken for anything except for him taking his friend's temperature. Ross relaxed under his touch, trusting Arin to be his anchor to this world before he slipped into his own.

"Ross," Arin whispered. He must have felt the other's movements under him. "Hey," he prompted again.

Ross slowly opened one eye to look at him, half-pretending to have just woken up. On the inside, though, sleep was threatening him after every movement. In response to Arin, he let out a string of mumbles, somehow translating to _hello_.

Arin looked absolutely _wrecked_. His usually shiny, perfectly brushed hair was messy and matted; the bags under his eyes were especially dark and his brown, soulful irises looked dormant and drained of life. Ross wouldn't normally say it, but...

"Y'look awful," he grumbled.

Arin let out a snicker of laughter, one that was coated in relief for seeing his best friend awake and alive for the first time in hours. But Ross didn't need to hear that thought to understand it. "You should see yourself, man."

He didn't need a mirror to imagine Arin's comment. He could _feel_ how horrible he looked. But before Ross could respond to that, Arin had already moved on.

"How're you feeling?" Arin inquired. He was removing all of the clothes from on top of the bed one by one so Ross had a chance to cool off some.

"I don't know," he whispered, "I... I don't know."

"That's okay."

"No, Arin, it's really not."

Arin bit his lip and shrugged down at him, as if to say _if you don't have anything to say, don't give me bullshit_. Ross wasn't sure how to proceed in their conversation, so he stuttered a bit before he could muster up the right words to say.

"Um..." Ross began. Arin was resting his upper body on his forearms, leaning towards Ross slightly as the boy tried to speak. Arin's tired eyes were fixated on his, giving a whole new meaning to the word 'listening'. Ross was making huge silent gaps between words, but Arin wasn't pressing him for his thoughts. Always giving him time to think...

"I'm _sorry_ , Arin," Ross said. He felt like he was about to cry. If Arin could tell, he wasn't commenting on it.

"No, man," Arin shook his head, and then let out a guilty laugh. "This is _not_ your fault."

"Well, it's not _yours! "_ he hissed back. He didn't mean to sound angry, he just... Didn't want Arin to carry the burden of his own problems.

Arin have him a skeptical look. "Whose fault is it then?" He said, his expression asking the blond boy to _just give it up already._

"Mine, probably. Wouldn't be the first time I've fucked something up so badly," Ross gave a defeated sigh and he turned his head away from Arin's face in favour of subconsciously counting the shirts hanging in Arin's messy closet.

Something to distract his mind from Arin denying his comment, from Arin moving closer, from strong arms being wrapped around his shoulders, from warm lips being pressed to his temples...

Ross' eyes fell shut and he gave his friend a quiet mumble before lifting his own arms from under the surface of the blanket to wrap them around Arin in return.

Soft kisses decorated the smaller boy's forehead and cheeks and with each display of affection, more and more of Ross' painful thoughts were melting away.

Arin pulled away after a few more kisses and looked down at Ross. "You know you're not going to class, right?" He said, as if this shouldn't have surprised the other boy. Needless to say, Ross was completely taken aback.

"What do you mean?" Ross said slowly, "Arin, you know I can't be missing classes. I was learning so much in art yesterday, I don't want to miss-"

"Ah-ah," Arin stopped him, "doctor's orders."

"From _what doctor?"_ Ross demanded. He was putting up a fight, but Arin was expecting this.

He pressed on Ross' chest to get him to lay down and be still once more. "It doesn't matter," he said with a patient smile. Ross was glaring at him, but he didn't argue with him any longer. Arin figured that this sign meant a victory for him, so he ruffled the Australian's hair and stood up to walk out of the room.

"Where th'fuck are _you_ going?" Ross asked. He was slowly getting riled up, but he wasn't leaving the bed. That's how Arin knew that this is what Ross really wanted.

"To make you something to eat, dumbass," Arin retorted. Ross was quiet after that and Arin chuckled to himself. _Oh. Well okay._

Arin returned to Ross' side about ten minutes later with a steaming hot bowl of soup in his hands, a small metal spoon sitting in the liquid. It was a strange thing to have first thing in the morning, yes, but he was sure it would make Ross feel better and so he had no issues in giving it to him. Ross carefully sat up in the bed and Arin laid a large plate in his lap, and then placed the hot bowl on top if that. Ross held his hands over the rising steam, looking between his fingers to see cut up vegetables and some noodles suspended in the soup.

"S'looks really good, Arin," he said quietly, his voice slightly hoarse. "Thank you."

"Of course, man," Arin said with a smile.

While Ross ate away at the delicious bits of soup, he idly watched Arin move around his room. The morning was a cool one, judging by what the weather looked like outside, and Arin had cracked the window open to filter out the musty, stuffy air. It was chilly, but it was also refreshing.

Ross held onto the sides of the hot bowl while his mouth was filled, carefully chewing as to savour the hearty taste of vegetables, even first thing in the morning.

The room was washed with a pale blue hue while the lighting gave Arin the chance to go through his closet and find something to wear.

Right now, he was donning nothing but the shirt he had been and black boxers. Ross watched as his arms moved and flexed to sift through the numerous pastel shirts. Sighing and fruitlessly turning away, Arin padded over to his dresser and pulled out a pair of stonewashed blue jeans, holes in the knees and the distressed markings on the thighs drawing a certain kind of attention to his legs.

Ross noted on that as Arin turned back towards him after he slipped the pants on, strapping a belt around his waist. The jeans looked _really_ good on him, but, there was one way to make it better. To make it look more... _Arin_.

Ross hummed to get Arin's attention, and with a mouthful of hot soup, let out a string of words that translated to "rawl de cafs ub" to Arin.

"Dude, _what?"_ He asked as he let out a chuckle, moving back to his closet for attempt number two at finding a shirt to wear.

Ross swallowed and breathed in to speak again. "I said 'roll the cuffs up.'"

"You really did _not_ say that the first time," Arin commented.

"You just didn't hear me, loser."

"Well when you talk with your mouth full, yeah!" He laughed. Ross giggled in response to his words and shovelled another spoonful into his mouth.

Arin finally complied to his words and bent over to fold the cuffs of his pants up once. The jeans were loose enough that it didn't feel like they were cutting off circulation to his legs, but tight enough that the cuffs wouldn't be annoying while he walked. Arin looked down at himself.

"Good suggestion," he gave Ross a look that said _okay, you were right,_ and then turned his back to him once more.

Ross watched Arin struggle to find a damn shirt for about three full minutes before he got fed up. In a tone of faux-annoyance, he said "That one," thrusting his arm out and pointing to what seemed like a single shirt in his own mind, but when Arin followed his finger to its destination, he put his hand on the hanger and Ross made a negative noise.

"Not that one, one over," the smaller boy said. Arin moved his hand one to the right.

"Wrong direction."

Okay, two to the left.

 _"This_ one?" Arin raised an eyebrow and Ross nodded in response, making a hand gesture that told Arin to get on with it.

Arin shrugged and pulled off his shirt, shaking the hair out of his eyes and chucking the clothing haphazardly towards the hamper. Of course, it was nowhere near landing in it.

Arin bent over to pick up the stick of deodorant that had fallen on the ground earlier in the night, and popped the cap off to swipe the cool substance on under his arms. As a default, he always had to smell himself after putting the deodorant on; the delightful scent of cucumbers was too awesome _not_ to sniff, even if he did it every single day. It wasn't particularly " _masculine_ " of him to use ladies' deodorants, but he didn't really care. When he could be nice and sweet like a cucumber, who cares about smelling like an _Ocean Spray?_ What did that even _mean?_

While he placed the deodorant down and those thoughts milled through his mind, he picked out the shirt Ross had suggested and plucked it off of the hanger.

Ross watched with a grin as Arin pulled the shirt over his head and tugged his arms through the holes, unrolling the fabric over his body. It was a looser shirt, a gentle, almost cream-coloured yellow. It was meant to hang off one lithe shoulder of a female's body, but Arin's much broader shoulders proved this as impossible. As a result, it hung lopsided on him, showing a little more skin on one side than the other.

The soft fabric was extremely comfortable and super soft, and felt nice against his torso, not itchy or annoying against his skin. The sleeves clung around the wide pipes of his soft arms and the bottom of the shirt was nicely cuffed, so it wasn't too loose on him. It hugged his body like a soft glove. The soft pink-coloured text on the chest of the shirt read _"work of heart"_ in all capitals, but the " _ar_ t" from " _heart_ " was a darker, purple-r shade. Arin thought it was one of the cutest shirts he's ever owned, one of the birthday presents among the countless ones Suzy, Ross and Holly picked out for him. Arin smiled to himself.

"Turn to me," Ross said, a question more than a statement. Arin did as he was asked and Ross looked at him as a whole. The pale yellow shirt complimented the deep blue of the jeans very nicely, and the cuffed pant legs miraculously matched the banded hem of the shirt. It was almost like Ross had planned the shirt, actually taking into consideration what he was wearing and not just throwing suggestions out for Arin to just move on already.

Arin looked down at himself and pulled and pinched and shifted the clothes over him until they were exactly how he wanted them to look. With a satisfied smile, he kicked all the other clothes to the side in one big clump.

"Dan's gonna like that," Ross said slyly. He was eyeing Arin's outfit with a grin.

"Bu- wh-what?" Arin stuttered, he could already feel his cheeks heating up at the man's name.

"Arin," Ross said, in a manner that made Arin almost feel guilty about something. Guilty about crushing hard on Dan, probably, "you look cute s'fuck."

"I... So? Can't I just look cute as fuck without it having to be for someone else?"

Ross nodded, "Yeah," he agreed genuinely, "but you've also been obsessed with this guy since you met him, like... two days ago."

Arin picked at the hem of the lovely shirt, bashfully smiling and avoiding Ross' slightly judgemental gaze.

"Whatever, man, so _what_ if Dan's super cute too," Arin laughed, and Ross snickered before munching down on one of the last spoonfuls of soup he had left since it cooled down.

Arin still had about an hour before he actually needed to leave, and so he spent his time tending to Ross and then to himself as he saw fit. He took Ross' empty dishes back to the sink to wash out, and came back with a slightly warmed glass of milk and an assortment of fruits for Ross to eat. Even though Ross didn't really want them, Arin implored him to reconsider by cutting them into bite-sized, super-enticing chunks. With a growling acceptance, Ross finally started picking away at the fruits and popped them into his mouth, then drank sips of the warm milk. It was all such a strange combination; soup, milk and fruits at this hour. But it was alright, because it made for a unique sort of taste in his mouth.

Arin had gone off to press dabs of cologne against the sides of his neck and wiped his fingers against the chest of his shirt. The spice of the cologne mixed actually very nicely with the sweetness of his deodorant, to his pleased senses. He sighed contentedly as he was getting more and more of his daily routine finished.

Arin wordlessly brought his own breakfast back to his bed to sit with Ross as they ate together in silence. The brunet was thinking idly about Ross while he watched him, gingerly picking at the fruit bits and dropping them into his mouth one by one.

Arin wondered about what was going on in Ross' mind. Was he still tormented by the nightmare? What had gone on back in the convenience store that Arin didn't know about? Was Ross trying not to think about it at all?

In fear of the last idea being true, Arin didn't take the chance of bringing the nightmare up in conversation. Ross seemed alright, at least for right now, and Arin didn't want to ruin that.

There was about 15 minutes before Arin actually had to leave, so he spent it by chipping at the messes in his room and in the dormitory. The dirty clothes were all gathered up and chucked into the hamper, the clean ones were folded or hung up. The odds and ends on his desk were tidied and organized and the petit statuettes of fictional characters were sorted by game. Outside his bedroom, the cushions and video games were sorted out and all the controllers were wrapped up and stowed away. It was as good as their room was going to get, at least for right now. Arin walked back to his room and Ross raised his hand to point at his own lower eyelids.

"Your eyes still look dead, dude," Ross stated.

Arin groaned and smacked his hands to his eyelids, rubbing them to try and get some better blood flow in hopes of making the dark circles disappear. Helplessly, he growled at his own exhaustion.

Ross chucked and gestured outside the room. "There's concealer in the bathroom," he suggested. Suzy had bought one for each of their skin tones in case they ever felt like they needed to 'cover up'. At first, the boys had scoffed, but it now proved to come in extremely handily.

Arin nodded in realization at Ross' words. "Thank _god_ for Suzy," he mumbled, running out of the room to make up for the lost time. Despite being awake hours earlier than he needed to be, he would still manage to somehow be late to art. That in _itself_ was an art.

Whipping open the bathroom drawers, he swiped his hand around until he found the small bottle of thick liquid that matched his skin. After washing his hands, he popped the lid off and ran the brush tip over his lower lids and covered the dark circles. The cooled makeup gave him slight goosebumps even while he carefully blended it in with his fingers, but it felt good nonetheless.

Afterwards, Arin looked at himself. It wasn't a _complete_ cover-up, but he was really happy with the result. It was laid on thin enough that it still looked pretty natural, so Arin was more than willing to put up with only slightly darkened under-eyes.

He pulled out his toothbrush and the almost-empty tube of toothpaste out to finish his morning routine, enjoying the replacement of morning breath and breakfast with the stung of spicy mint.

After he cleaned up, he walked back to Ross and the smaller boy nodded, accepting of Arin's makeup job.

"Much better," he commented, Arin smiling in affirmation. He stretched his arms up, standing in the middle of his room before he sighed and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Arin groaned as he noted the time - he should have left for class three minutes ago.

"Alright, well," Arin started, "I've gotta go, and you've gotta sleep."

"Mmhm."

The taller boy walked to the end of the room and pulled the blinds down halfway, cutting light to the room significantly. He opened the window a little bit more to allow Ross the chance at fresh air while he was going to be stuck inside all day.

Arin ran to Ross' room and grabbed his friend's 3DS before returning and placing it on his own nightstand.

"In case you can't sleep and get bored," Arin informed him.

"Thanks, dude," Ross smiled.

Arin was going full-mom on Ross right now, rushing around making last-minute changes, giving him thorough instructions on how to take care of himself as if Ross has never been home from school for a day in his life. Reaching for Ross' phone, he placed that on top of the 3DS. Ross thanked him once more, and then Arin was on his way.

Or... He _would_ have been, but before he could even get out of his own _room_ , he turned on his heels and calmly walked to Ross' side. Placing a sweet, gentle, and caring kiss to Ross' lips, he pressed their foreheads together as they parted.

"Call me if you need anything," Arin whispered.

"You know I will," Ross flashed him his beautiful grin and returned the kiss, pressing a warm hand to Arin's face.

Arin wished he could have stayed that way forever, but the guilt of being late was already tugging at him and he knew he'd have to leave immediately. Taking Ross' empty platter of fruit chunks and his own empty bowl and offering him a slightly regretful smile, he left the room and shut his bedroom door behind him.

He placed their dishes on the counter and walked to the door with his bag slung over one shoulder, grabbing a grey hoodie on the way out.

Before shutting the dorm door, he poked his head through the opening just to catch Ross yelling "See you, Arin!"

Guilt mixed with happiness and the emotions tugged at his heartstrings, but he chuckled nonetheless.

"Go to bed, Ross!"

"I _am!"_

He snickered and pulled the door shut, watching it click into place before he let go of the handle. It already felt empty not having Ross beside him. He felt like he was missing a huge part of himself.

Taking a step back and sighing, Arin turned his head to look down the long hallway in front of him. Students were making their way to the main buildings to attend their classes, many looking in much better - and worse - shape than Arin. One girl was wearing her backpack, pyjamas and had a toothbrush jammed in her mouth while she walked down the hallway without a care.

 _Ah, college,_ Arin thought.

And with a yawn in dread of the day, Arin eventually joined the rest of the group and paced his way to art, a cold emptiness already blooming in the pit of his stomach.

With a hard swallow and a decisive sigh that he was doing the right thing for his friend, he tried mentally talked himself into believing it. He knew that Ross would just call him if he needed to, right? Even if he acted like it sometimes, Ross was no fool.

Finding some solace in that thought, Arin marched on, forcing himself not to look back.


	6. A Different Shade of Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another art class is in the books, and this is one that Arin wants to keep to himself for as long as he lives...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot more dialogue in this chapter than I usually write, but a lot of it is funy context and I thought it was about time I wrote more about their actual verbal interactions. :D Enjoy!

Just as Arin entered the art classroom, the bell had stopped ringing. Talk about timing. Students were sitting around talking, waiting for their teacher to announce the new lesson.

As Arin sat down, he looked up towards the front of the class and his face lit up with visible delight. Even despite everything he'd gone through to get here, seeing Dan did not cease to put a smile on his face.

They made eye contact, Arin already staring, just like the social-interaction-master that he was. Dan gave him a face that seemed to silently ask _"is he looking at me... or is he looking through me?"_

In order to answer his question, Dan raised a hand to give him a gentle wave. Arin blinked once and then shook himself out of what seemed like a trance, covering his blushing face with his hands. When Arin finally removed them, his cheeks were bright red and the boy flicked his hand upwards to respond to Dan; narrowly avoiding the model's amused gaze with an embarrassed smile.

My _god_ , this boy is awkward as _all hell,_ Dan thought.

If he was going to be honest with himself, it was _adorable_.

Arin sat down and sorted his things out, trying to distract himself from the raw beauty in front of him. Luckily, his teacher was there to do that _for_ him.

"Alright, my wonderful students," she sang, gesturing vaguely to Dan, who gave a pleasing smile to the class. "Today is all about speed painting."

The class groaned.

"I know, I know," she shushed them, "But you have to do it anyways..." She launched into, like, a ten minute explanation of how the process was going to go. If Arin got anything from it, it was only the basics: Dan's going to pose, the students will paint, and after 20 minutes Dan will change positions for them to paint all over again.

The goal was to help the students in understanding the brevity of painting from life. The scene isn't always going to be there, so it's important to capture the perfection while you can...

Of course, Arin's mind derailed to the fact that _Dan's_ perfection would be impossible to replicate even if he was given the rest of his _life_ to paint him.

... _Wow_ , did Arin ever have the hots for Dan. It was unfair as hell, having to be in his presence all the time. Comparing himself to the model was like comparing the sun to Pluto... there was just no chance, no competition.

So, he had to make up for it by attempting his shot at recreating his _hot_ body. _Speaking of the sun..._

The _moment_ Dan froze in the pose he was put in, Arin was already going brush-to-canvas. Gentle strokes guided him as he took in details of the man's position, expression, and all the colours that his skin could possibly radiate in order to create a palette.

This was the first day of the week so far where the sun wasn't ruling the sky alone; there were thick clouds blanketing the atmosphere which caused the entire room to be covered in varying shades of blue and grey. No exclusion to the wash of colour, Dan's body reflected the cool colours in such a shade of pastel blue that it made Arin bite his lip in excitement. He was layering on different shades of blue and peach, trying to get exactly the same colours down on the canvas as his eyes interpreted.

He had swept colours onto the slender forms of Dan's legs before their a feminine voice spoke up, breaking Arin's concentration.

"Time's up!" She announced. While their teacher helped Dan move into his new position, the class burst into comments about how no one had finished. At least Arin could say he was happy with what he _did_ get done, even if it wasn't much.

When he had set up a new canvas and focused back on Dan, he almost choked on his own tongue.

The older man was facing Arin, sitting straight up and looking directly at him. His leg was crossed over the other and his hand was in his lap, innocently relaxed, but Arin could sense the tension in his posture.

Dan's arm was against his chest as he pressed his dainty fingers to his mouth in a nonchalant, teasing motion. He was looking at the younger man with such an expression that Arin knew _exactly_ what the model was trying to convey, and that thought alone got him motivated enough to start painting.

Arin found it exponentially more difficult to concentrate on his brushstrokes when Dan was watching him with brown eyes full of interest and intent.

Every so often, Arin would glance at the model and Dan would feel a surge of energy run up his spine. He wanted Arin to pay attention to him like that all the time. Just the two of them, alone, Dan watching Arin watch _him_. Dan found it electrifying to be analyzed so closely, and it was almost giving him away.

He could feel the blood pumping to exactly the wrong place, and he  had to redirect his gaze towards Arin's arms, which were shifting and sweeping as he got more details down on the canvas. That proved to be just as much of a mistake, as Arin's arms were affecting him more than his studious gaze.

Dan moved down again, fixating his eyes on Arin's hips where he sat.

Reflexively, Arin sat up straighter as he noted Dan's flight-path of a stare, cracking his back in his newfound position. With a relaxed exhalation, he blinked a few times before looking back at the canvas with a deadpan expression.

Dan found Arin's movements to be quite entertaining - every different position had an expression to go with it, most of which were ones of distaste. The model certainly hoped that those disgusted faces were because of _him_.

About a minute or two later of idle thinking and admiration, their teacher rang out once more to get the students to stop painting. Arin relaxed his body and waited for Dan to be repositioned once more.

This time, he was standing, facing in a three-quarter turn adjacent to Arin. His body was positioned in such a way that it made him look like he was walking, left leg stuck out in front of the other.

His right arm was bent towards his head and his large hand tangled in his hair, bushing it out a little bit in a mess of loose curls. Causing his hair to fall slightly was his head, tipped upwards to expose his neck and collarbones. His right arm was extended to his side, where his fingers pointed in a way that made him look elegant... delicate. Pure and angelic, like a ballet dancer in the midst of the class.

It was a lot to take in.

And if _that_ wasn't enough, the elderly woman they called their teacher hobbled over to Dan, holding a wide blue ribbon in her hands. She draped it over Dan's shoulders, the silky material sliding and falling into a position where it would be held. The ribbon rustled back and forth lightly in the air where it hung freely from Dan's body.

Well... _Now_ , Dan just looked purely ethereal.

Where was Arin even supposed to _start?_

Answering his own question by his actions, he smudged an angular shape onto the middle-top of the blank canvas, representing Dan's head. With the flick of a wrist, a neck. Shoulders sprouting out from jutting collarbones. Defined muscles in slender arms that ended in a preciously pointing finger one side and a hand tangled in hair on the other. A long torso, a prominent ribcage and a gently,   _barely_ rounded stomach which led down the places Arin _conveniently_ could not see.

Slender thighs were still flexing while they supported Dan's weight, stuck in positions not only _abnormal_ to an everyday lifestyle, but also just mildly uncomfortable in general.

Sweeping motions along the canvas guided Arin as he painted, much faster and with more inspiration than before. There was no chance that he was going to achieve a smooth blend of colour with the amount of time that he felt he had left, so instead Arin was liberally splashing colours to any part he thought needed it. To compliment the cool blue of the ribbon, Arin used warm shades of reds and browns on Dan's body to indicate shadow. The artist knew that yellow and green were light colours and were between the colours he's planned to use already, so he used a gentle gold-yellow as a soft highlighter for where the light bounced off of Dan's god-like skin.

Minutes passed and Arin was breezing through his creation. Painting-Dan had defined muscles and soft shadows, colourful highlights and a divine expression painting his face, no pun intended. With a large, square brush, he swished it around in water before dabbing into the vibrant blue paint. Arin slowly mixed it with white and a hint of yellow to create a beautiful sky-blue, while waiting for his canvas to dry off slightly, he switched brushes and combined colours to mix up a rich brown for Dan's hair.

Once he felt that the paint could handle it, he picked up his gentle blue brush and swirled his arm in random curls and spirals to give the ribbon around Dan's lithe body a majestic, magical look. Sure, he was deviating _slightly_ from reality, where the sleek fabric hung limp off Dan's shoulders, but Arin figured that his version was much more pleasing to the eye.

Stippling dabs with his brown-covered brush created the roots of Dan's hair, soft flowing locks that picked up the breeze and bounced very slightly as he moved his head. Randomized flicking and careful swirling of his brush created lively strands of hair, contrasting wonderfully with the paler skin of his naked body.

So quickly had Arin created his project where so soon it had to be dismissed. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his teacher rising to her feet, walking with heavy steps to her place beside Dan. Excitedly, she clapped her hands.

"Alright, my students," her voice sounded almost like a crow's caw mixed with the hoarseness of speaking right after waking up. It went without saying that those two things combined weren't... The _prettiest_ of things, per se.

Arin grumbled under his breath and dropped his brushes back into the can of water, taking a deep, long breath. The sound of his inhalation caught Dan's attention and the two made eye contact as he older man sat down on his stool, and Arin shook his head as if to say _"can you fuckin' believe her?"_

Dan just quietly nodded in agreement, snickered, and raised a hand to 'nonchalantly' cover up his grin. Seeing the genuine entertainment in Dan's eyes consequently made Arin smile right back.

 

\----

 

The class went on like this, Arin and Dan exchanging _looks_ every so often while the students were painting, Arin making absurd faces at Dan, trying to make him smile or laugh hard enough to break his position.

As their flirtatious comedy carried on, Arin was temporarily oblivious to the fact that he was getting next to no work done at all. He would get so much as an outline of Dan's body and _maybe_ some flat colours down before the teacher cut them off, Arin's mouth falling open as he looked at her in disbelief and mock offence. Which only made Dan happier.

By the end of class, the students had started about six paintings. Arin didn't think that any of them were going to get finished, but that didn't mean that he couldn't work on them after school or over the weekends.

Class was coming to an end and students were cleaning up and washing out their brushes. Their teacher, over the noise, announced that the paintings were to be placed in a pile on top of a desk at the back. From experience, Arin knew that anything that was placed in that pile was going to be moved to the storage room, doomed to never see the light of day again. He did it anyways, placing all of his unfinished paintings on top of the student's before him.

All, except for one.

Walking back to his place, the painting of Dan and his ribbon perched on the canvas was sitting alone in the room. There, standing in front of Dan's portrait, was... Well, _Dan_ , standing in his bathrobe, who was tracking his eyes up and down the length of the image of his body, petrified onto a thin layer of canvas. Arin's stomach did nervous flips as he tried to predict what Dan was going to say before the man even opened his mouth. If he guessed correctly...

 _"Wow,"_ Dan mumbled. So Arin _did_ guess correctly. Whether or not he realized Arin was there, it didn't stop him from voicing his thoughts. Long, slender fingers uncurled from a loose fist and the hand was raised towards the painting. Soft fingertips grazed against the woven surface of the unpainted canvas, inching closer and closer to the colour of his copy's skin.

"Paint might still be wet," Arin said quietly, as not to startle him. Dan did not look at Arin, which made the boy wonder if the model had heard him at all.

But, those long fingers that pressed and dragged gently against the surface of his painting as if it were the skin of his lover, were slowly slid off and removed. Arin almost regretted bringing Dan out of his reverie.

"S'not done yet," Arin commented, noticing now that shadows weren't as deep as he realized and that details could _definitely_ be added.

Dan looked him directly in the eye. "It's amazing," he responded, but not necessarily to anything Arin was saying. Nonetheless the younger boy bowed his head and gave him a timid _"thank you."_

Dan scanned up and down the portrait once more and then put his hands on his own hips in disbelief.

"You actually make me look _good!"_ Dan laughed and nudged the younger with his elbow. Arin rolled his eyes and smirked, cocking his head to one side.

"Shut up, man, you know you always look good."

It had come out more presumptuously than Arin had anticipated, but he still wasn't about to take it back. Luckily, Dan was willing to play ball.

"Yeah, you're right," he snickered, "but you made me look a little bit better than I already do."

"Have I made you any more modest?"

"Oh, _hell_ no," Dan responded incredulously, as if it were already obvious. Which, it very well might have been.

Arin chuckled and began carefully packing away the painting for him to take to his room after school.

Beside him, Dan shrugged. "No, but, really," he started, "it's amazing."

Arin smiled to himself. "Like I said, _pretty boy,"_ throwing a nickname in just for effect, "it's not finished yet."

"Do you plan on finishing it?"

"Well, yeah," Arin thought, "Eventually."

"How're you gonna do it without me being there?"

Arin turned to face him and placed a hand to his chest as if to say _excuse me?_  "I thought you _were_ gonna be there!"

"Be _where? "_ Dan demanded. He seemed taken aback by Arin's comment, but showed no signs of slowing down their momentum.

"Uh, my _bedroom, obviously!"_

Around them, students were looking their way, some annoyed, some disinterested, others smiling and looking between them. From across a group of girls, another boy cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled _"Get a room!"_ to them before the whole  group broke into fits of giggles. It was a lighthearted lashing-out, but in natural retaliation, Arin gestured wildly to Dan and looked towards the boy that shouted at him.

"I'm _trying!"_

This caused several others to join their festivities, everybody laughing and nudging their friends, not-very-secretly whispering _"did you hear that?" "Did you hear what he said?"_ and then proceeding to repeat Arin's exclamation to them.

Dan had his eyes shut, tipping backwards as genuine, high-pitched laughter left his mouth and Arin had to look right at him to believe that it _was_ him. The laugh was so real, so happy, it pleased Arin like nothing else. If Arin could get the model to laugh like that all the time, he could really say that his own life could end right then and there and he would be fine with it.

The bell rang out over the intercom and a music was blasted over the speakers, indicating yet another class change. Students were filing out, some still re-enacting Arin's smooth talk to Dan only minutes prior.

Even though he was going to be late for his next class already, Arin was still standing in front of Dan patiently.

Dan finally controlled himself with a gentle giggle, red cheeks and teary eyes as the aftermath of his outburst. He took a deep breath and looked at Arin calmly.

"Sure," he said, as if Arin had just asked him a question. Did he? He didn't remember.

"What?" Arin asked, confused, and silently hoping that he hadn't accidentally asked Dan something stupid while he wasn't paying attention to himself. Whatever it was, Dan had said yes.

"I mean, I would like to," Dan continued. When Arin still showed no signs of catching up, he carried on again, "To model for you, personally. If you want."

Oh. _Oh!_ Dan was responding to Arin's joke. _That's_ what it was. A _joke_ , right...

"Wa- really?" Arin made sure, like the dumbfounded idiot he thought he was.

"Well, I mean, yeah. You, me, candlelight dinner, red wine. I strip down and pose, and wait for you to paint me by the light of the fire..." Dan trailed off into a snicker, and then laughter upon looking at Arin's surprised face.

Arin nodded his head and looked at the other man. "That actually sounds nice... I mean, if you want red wine, I can get some, but I don't drink."

"I don't either," Dan shrugged, "I just figured that red wine is a tad more romantic, than, like... Y'know, apple juice."

"Don't diss the piss!" Arin mock-defended.

"See? Exactly!"

A moment of happy silence appeared after their shared laughter. Then, Arin's face fell into a slight frown.

"Wait, what do you mean _romantic?"_

Dan smiled and walked behind Arin, placing his large hands gently on Arin's lower back, pressing with only slight pressure in order to get the artist to start walking. Once they left the room, Arin's belongings and painting in his arms, Dan leaned down towards him. "Don't you have to be in class?" He mumbled low into Arin's ear. _A distraction,_ Arin figured.

The model wasn't _wrong_ , the bell had stopped ringing and the music was gone. There were no people in the halls. If they listened, they could hear the chattering of teachers from beyond the classroom doors.

A familiar sight once more, Arin's Political Science classroom door was shut, but not for long. With the sound of creaking coming from the doorknob, Dan sprang into action. Grabbing Arin's wrist, he quickly pulled him to the side, behind a wall where the artist's teacher wouldn't be able to see them by looking outside. They ducked down, nearly sitting, and fell completely silent as they stared at each other with anticipation. Arin took a deep breath and held it, silent.

The boys waited patiently, but with nervous tension, as they hoped that the old professor wouldn't come down the hallway looking for Arin.

To their luck, the hinges squeaked and the door clicked shut once more, Arin releasing his pent-up breath of relief.

"Dude, you were fucking superhero-mode on that shit," Arin said quietly.

"Don't worry, bro, I've gotcha covered!" Dan mumbled back with a smile, then leaned back against the brick wall and placed his bare feet on the ground. His legs were bent, and just because of their sheer length, looked like he was curling in on himself. Where the housecoat ended, however, was beginning to slide along his leg with gravity; slowly showing off more and more skin with each passing moment. Arin shook his thoughts off and looked at Dan, Fully sitting down beside him.

"Why'd you do that, though?" He asked curiously. He wasn't mad, at all, he just truly wanted to know Dan's intentions before Arin himself took it to far.

"Didn't want you to get in trouble," Dan replied. He left the younger man to think about it, but when Arin didn't speak up, Dan decided to continue. "Didn't want you to leave, either."

"That's fitting," Arin whispered. Dan was avoiding his eyes, but urged the younger man's words nonetheless. "I never wanted to go."

With a nervous giggle, Dan asked, "To class? Or away from me?"

Arin nodded his head from side to side like he was considering his options. With a smile, he looked back to Dan.

"Both!"

They shared a warm smile and then Dan stood up, the skin shown by his falling housecoat being covered up once more. He offered a hand to Arin, who graciously took it by shoving his own hand's contents under his other arm.

When Arin actually grabbed Dan's hand, however, the model winced in pain and made a small noise of discomfort. Helping him to his feet, Dan quickly released him and flicked his hand like there was burning-hot water on it. Arin was slightly panicked, but also had no idea why.

"I'm sorry," Arin said, fearing that he maybe was gripping Dan's fingers a little too tightly. "Are... You okay?"

Dan looked at his hand, and then pointed to a large, red mark that spanned most of the raised areas of his palm. Whatever it was, it looked like the skin there was sensitive and a bit swollen.

"Yeah," Dan said between clenched teeth, "Don't be sorry, I was the one who offered the hand to you."

"Why would you give me that one?" Arin asked innocently, but his voice was laced with a certain kind of nonchalance that made Dan look at him with a face that said _"dude, shut up."_

"I just forgot about it until you grabbed it," Dan explained with an embarrassed smile. He held his palm open and Arin looked at the blistered skin.

"What happened?"

"Oh..." Dan didn't necessarily look _comfortable_ going into details, but he clearly didn't mind enough to stop. "I picked up a very hot metal platter last night."

When Arin looked at him like it was a stupid move to pull, he forced himself to explain a bit more. "I work in a restaurant. I'm a waiter."

"Ah."

"Yeah."

Arin was imagining Dan wearing a white cuffed shirt, top few buttons undone to let his skin breathe in the constantly changing environments of the kitchen and the main restaurant. Long hair pulled back in a bun, with loose curls falling out at the front of his hairline and close to his ears. Warm smiles to new customers, taking their orders with a gentle voice and an expression that oozed non-threatening behaviour. Delivering steaming platters of deliciously prepared food, sharing that sweet, gentle laughter as he told his customers to enjoy their food before he was whisked away to the kitchen once more to fill another order.

Arin must have been staring while running through this... _Fantasy_ , because Dan had his head cocked to the side and was smiling to disarm the artist. And _boy_ was it working.

"What?" Dan asked, entertained.

Arin decided that he would take a jump into the deep end, "Just imagining you as a cute waiter, s'all. With your cute smile and your cute laugh." ...Alright, maybe a bit of an over-share. Regardless, Dan glanced away, giggled and then looked back towards Arin.

"Well, thank you," he said happily. Arin grinned and shrugged in his own form of _you're welcome._

"What's being a waiter like?" Arin wondered, trying to get a feel for more than what he himself experiences at restaurants.

"Shitty," Dan mumbled, to Arin's absolute surprise, "You always get people who think it's really funny to be rude to us. Real rich, snobby people. When they hired me, they warned me about that, but... I never thought it would be _this_ bad." Dan was truly bitter about this topic, but with complaints like that, Arin couldn't really blame him. According to his story, Dan was probably verbally belittled in some way or another every single _day_ because of the people he offers his service to. That which made Arin irrationally angry.

"That's super fucking stupid," he growled. Dan nodded in complete agreement.

"Yeah. But I need the money."

The artist couldn't say he didn't understand how that part felt. He's been running low on money for most of his life, and he'd probably be dead if it weren't for the support of his parents. He wasn't sure what Dan's financial situation was like exactly, but if it was anything close to Arin's, it probably sucked.

Arin made a very matter-of-fact face and gently held the back of Dan's hand in his own, examining the red skin of his burned palm. "Well, unlike _them_ ," he started, " _I_ think you're a wonderful human being."

Dan smiled gratefully, "Thank you, Arin, I think you're a wonderful human being as well."

Arin returned the excited grin and then gestured to Dan's hand with a slight blush. "U-uh, I can probably help fix this for you," he commented. Dan nodded and the two of them began walking back to the art room to grab Dan's clothes so he could change.

After they showed up at the bathrooms, there were one or two people in there but otherwise it was pretty quiet. Dan had locked himself in a stall and Arin spent time waiting for him by washing his hands with soap, to scrub off the dried paint, and with cold water to soothe his eager jitteriness. Right as he finished, Dan popped out beside him and stretched, but he had a hand on his lower back and an uncomfortable expression on his face.

"What's wrong?" Arin asked.

"You think you could fix my spine as well?" Dan asked, mostly as a joke but Arin thoughtfully nodded.

"I could try," he replied. Dan was about to tell him he was just joking, but Arin had a pretty serious tone to his voice that made Dan wonder just what the artist was capable of.

He allowed Arin to guide him out of the bathroom and he took the older man outside, where the sun had finally broken out from between the clouds and heated the atmosphere to turn it into a rather pleasant day.

Arin walked beside Dan, idly talking about this, that, and whatever else it morphed into.

When they showed up at Arin and Ross' little cove between the buildings, Dan raised an eyebrow.

"Well... Where else would we have gone?" Arin challenged. Dan shrugged and rolled his eyes with a laugh, but sat down beside Arin anyways. The ledge was kind of cold in comparison to the hot sun because it was in the shade, but it was refreshing in a way. The cool pavement made Dan's senses come to life.

"Sit in front of me, dude," Arin directed. Dan did as he was told, sitting on the ground between Arin's legs which was at a lower level than where Arin was perched.

The artist had perfect access to Dan's shoulders and upper back, where was exactly where he placed his hands and began rubbing in small circles.

"Fuck, dude," Dan said after a little while, feeling the tension and stress melt away from his muscles under Arin's wonderful touch.

"Feel good?"

" _So_ good..." Dan drawled.

Arin couldn't deny that Dan's noises and moaning wasn't making his stomach do happy little flips every single time. The man was wonderful.

After a while, Arin placed his hands on the sides of Dan's body and gently pressed upwards, prompting Dan to sit between Arin's opened legs so he could more easily reach Dan's lower back.

Thumbs pressing from around Dan's spine and moving outward caused the model to sigh and shift against him. Minutes passed and Arin failed to notice that Dan was slowly leaning back, further into his touch, until Dan made the final move to press against his body with his own. Dan was slouched slightly in his lap, so the model's head appeared at the same height as his own.

Arin had to flip his hands around to continue rubbing Dan's back with his four fingers, but it was becoming clear that Dan wanted something else.

An arm curled around Arin's neck and long fingers tangled in his hair, pulling just slightly as Dan's body rolled against his own. Arin was getting hotter and hotter by the second, and it was not because of the sun.

"Dan..." Arin said, nearly as a warning. Giving the model his last chance to back out.

"Yes, Arin?" Dan asked quietly as he began to sit up, likely worried that he had taken it too far too soon. But the moment he began to pull away, Arin's strong arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him back flush with his body. The action killed any doubts that Dan had about Arin being unsure of his movements.

Suddenly, Dan felt the prickle of facial hair and the velvety graze of smooth lips on the soft, sensitive skin of his neck and he released a quiet string of curses, clearly meant to encourage Arin to continue.

When the hand pushing on Arin's head became increasingly urgent, the artist opened his mouth and bit down reasonably harshly against the other's neck and Dan full-on _moaned_. Arin responded by releasing a resonant mumbling  of _"fuck"_ against Dan's skin as the man rolled his hips back against Arin's, grinding perfectly against the one place Arin _almost_ wished he hadn't.

"Dan, oh my _god_ ," Arin hissed, a wonderful pressure against his dick stirring his body to attention. Dan never seemed to slow down; in fact, Arin's senseless mumbling just seemed to spur him on even more.

With the hand that wasn't burned, Dan grabbed Arin's wrist and held tight onto his hand, then pressed his lips against Arin's ear and hummed the most exciting words Arin has ever heard.

"Wanna see how far we can take this?" He asked breathlessly.

Arin responded by dragging his free hand down Dan's stomach and resting it over the model's already hardening cock, rubbing his thumb up and down its length.

Pressing his first kiss to Dan's neck, he massaged the outline of Dan's dick with his fingers and bucked his hips up against the model's ass. A sly smile ghosted over Arin's lips as he pulled Dan's earlobe gently between his teeth.

 _"That_ answer your question?"


	7. Getting Warmer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan needs to learn how to keep his dirty mouth shut.
> 
> Then again, Arin should keep his open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my GOD okay. So after getting one too many "OH MY GOD UPDATE ALREADY--" comments, I got really discouraged from writing this. It became a chore to me, rather than something I enjoyed doing that you guys like as well. I... didn't think I would actually keep writing this, but... I had the chapter like a quarter finished from months ago and decided why the hell not. I would HIGHLY SUGGEST that you go back and reread the last chapter or two just so things are fresh in your mind for what's happening! This chapter is directly linked to the end of the last one, so... Yeah. 
> 
> this chapter's real summary would probably be "arin and dan do the nsfw at school"
> 
> For those of you who have waited patiently for me to update this, this chapter is for you. <3

"Arin,  _fuck_..."

Just like Arin suspected, Dan was reacting with intense moans and his movements became desperate, the model's body in need of immediate attention. Arin was more than willing to comply, palming him through his skinny jeans and watching Dan unravel before his eyes. Dan was a mess in Arin's arms; thrusting his hips up to meet Arin's hand, pulling insistently on the younger man's hair. How gorgeous he was... How gorgeous and how  _desperately at the mercy_  of Arin he was...

Dan was well aware of the fact that Arin knew exactly what the man wanted, and it was slightly agitating that he would starve him of that in his... Time of _need_.

With a chuckle, and as if he was a mind-reader, Arin's nimble fingers began toying with the metal button of Dan's jeans, giving Dan the slightest taste of just how things were going to go down. Arin spent some time biting and sucking at the skin of Dan's neck before the model felt Arin's deep voice vibrate against his skin.

"Tell me what you want, Dan," Arin mumbled, flicking his finger across the smooth surface of the button, not allowing any more contact until Dan gave in to the dominant behaviour. Choosing his words to use them as a form of consent - what he was allowed and not allowed to have based on Dan's response.

Luckily, or unluckily, Dan played nice with others. He tilted his head towards Arin's ear and let out a purposefully wanton moan - not that it was difficult - and let his lips graze the artist's soft skin as he spoke. 

"I want your hands on me, Arin," Dan said in a low voice, "I want you to take me over all day and all night, I wanna feel your fingers in-" he forced himself to stop as he realized what he was just about to say.  _Nice work, dipshit_ , he scolded himself.  _Now he knows you're a desperate little bitch._

Arin's movements stopped cold and Dan's entire body froze with them, and for about two seconds, Dan was sure that the entire world had just stopped spinning. He swore that he could sense Arin there, judging him, left blank and wondering how to proceed.

Arin would, no doubt, think that Dan was only with him- was only ever interested- in getting pleasure out of him. Arin wasn't giving him any kind of response that told him otherwise, as badly as Dan wanted to know or not. 

With both hands placed on the cement ledge beside him, Dan gave a shaky, self-shaming sigh and began to push his body up away from Arin's in an internal panic. The model wasn't embarrassed about many things, no, but brutally fucking shit up with a potential friend, or even a  _boyfriend_ , was definitely high on the  _would not recommend_ list _._

Just as he stood up, he felt a warm hand wrap tightly around his wrist. Dan tried to tug it away, but was left there half-heartedly as he realized that the grip was only getting tighter. 

"Arin, I-" Dan began. He wouldn't have known what to say, which was good because Arin cut him off by standing up in front of him anyways. 

Dan lost all focus as the world suddenly went a very, very dark red, light shining through Arin's fingers where they covered Dan's eyes. The last image Dan saw was of Arin's smiling face before this temporary blindness took over. 

What... The fuck was happening? 

Dan was in _no_ mood to play games right now, especially after what he just did. 

Dan's red cheeks were warmer than even Arin's hands on his face, so it wasn't hard to tell that Dan was in some sort discomfort with the artist's actions right now, no matter how reassuring the closeness was.

Insecurity was eventually replaced with contentedness and excitation from where Arin's free hand skillfully unbuttoned Dan's jeans, a feat which Dan would have been shocked by regardless of the circumstances. He knew his own jaw was slackened and hanging open, but he couldn't stop himself from letting out breathy gasps at the cool air touching his newly-exposed skin. With the heat of Arin's hand on his abdomen to keep his body warmer, Dan rocked his hips forward insistently and Arin responded by wrapping his hand around Dan's cock and stroking upwards once, squeezing gently. Arin knew what he was doing to the model. Oh  _boy_  he knew. And he wasn't afraid to show Dan in the slightest. 

Dan growled an intelligent response of "f-fuck," before he leaned his back against the brick wall behind him, giving Arin the chance to play with him a little more. 

The hand that covered his eyes was removed from his face and instead dragged down the front side of his body, slowly inviting Dan to look down at what the artist was performing. 

Arin had his flushed, pretty face hovering over the exposed skin of Dan's dick, his slightly pointed teeth hidden behind the top lip of his parted mouth. Arin's eyes were heavy with lust and as he sucked his warm, pink lips together around the tip of Dan's cock, swirling his wet tongue around it from inside his mouth.

Dan's eyes naturally wanted to close to allow him to bask in the pleasure, but he found himself simultaneously unable to look away. 

What a glorious predicament to be in.

As Arin's was before, Dan's mouth was hanging open, slack-jawed in awe at the sudden contact between them. When Dan reached his hand down to card his fingers through Arin's silky hair, the younger man hummed his appreciation. Of _course_ he would have done that, knowing full well that the vibrations would run like electricity from his cock right up his spine and branch out inside every vein in his body. 

As if the shock had moved his muscles involuntarily, Dan's body clenched, causing him to ball his fists tightly in Arin's hair. The artist popped his mouth off of Dan's cock and looked up at the other man with a burning, hungry gaze. 

"Do that _again_ ," Arin slurred in his pleasure. 

Arin's hand, not much smaller than Dan's own, wrapped around his slicked shaft and moved up and down while twists of the boy's wrist kept the model on edge.

Without even trying, Arin had got what he asked for- Dan was moaning his name loud and clear in the light of day, tugging on shiny strands of hair to please the other.

And, well, it was _working_.

Arin wasn't even sure if his body was moving anymore. His hands felt numb from where they rested on Dan's body, his head felt dizzy with want and his eyes were screwed tightly shut. Arin didn't know how to react, so he did to Dan what he would have wanted done to himself...

"Jesus,  _A-Arin_ , how the fuck... are you..." Dan was quite literally at a loss for words. He focused in on the boy on the ground, whose hot mouth was filled with Dan's dick.

With every movement, Dan could feel himself nudging against the back of Arin's throat, he could feel the flat of his tongue rubbing against the thick vein on the underside of his shaft. 

Arin was  _clearly_  no stranger to deepthroating, as Dan so quickly discovered, but the insistent hands pressing down hard on Dan's hips were telling him that Arin was in charge. Honestly, Dan couldn't even complain. 

He might've liked it better that way anyways.

Arin had his eyes closed patiently. His body was relaxed and he was using his legs as leverage to bob himself forward and back, letting the slick shaft move past the ridge of his mouth and down his throat. As Dan gasped and Arin went deeper, the young brunet's eyebrows began to knit together and his dark eyelashes were getting wet and sticking  to each other with the tears pricking at his eyes. 

If Dan wasn't so fucking turned on and so close to blowing his load down Arin's throat, he would have asked the boy if he was alright. Dan removed his hands from Arin's head and instead moved them to his own, pulling at tangles of curls and hissing at the pinpricks of pain at his scalp.

Arin's mouth looked painfully sore, being open so wide for so long, but it didn't seem to deter him. With eyes that said  _you like this_? and a wink on his part, Arin gazed up at Dan before removing one of his hands from Dan's hips and giving him a firm slap on the ass. Naturally, Dan was caught off guard and his body responded by moving away from the source of the smack... Which happened to, conveniently, be a quick thrust of his hips to shove his cock down Arin's throat even more. A surprised and kind of a choked noise came from the artist and Dan moved his hips back to gently pull Arin off of him.

Ever alarmed that he hurt the boy, Dan scanned his face for any signs of pain, disbelief, something, anything Dan could have used to read his crush's emotion.

He did _not_ expect, however, the brief smile and the raised eyebrow from the one he now held in his arms.

"What?" Arin whispered. His voice was ragged and quiet, which came as no surprise, and Dan would have scolded him for it if he knew any better. 

"Are you okay?" Dan asked.

"I am....  _much_  better than okay."

Dan's expression morphed into a telltale look of concern and sarcasm. "Really, Arin," he said. Not even a question, just a statement. 

Arin just laughed, "Yeah, man." He curled loose hair behind his ear, "Use me all you want." Arin, even though he was used to the pain in his jaw and throat after forcing it open for so long, really wanted to see Dan break down under him. It didn't matter if it hurt him or not. 

"Whoa... Really? Are you sure?" Dan was bewildered. Also,  _really_  fuckin' horny. He hoped the latter wasn't too obvious.

"Sure, I'm sure." 

"Wow, dude, uh..." Dan trailed off. That... Isn't really the kind of thing you say  _thanks_  for, Dan supposed, so he had no other choice but to stand there, half-naked and leaning against a brick wall with his not-so-new-anymore crush between his legs, looking at him expectantly while he racked his brain to find the right words to respond with. Phew.

Well... He  _couldn't_  find them, as it would turn out, but he just shook his head and let out a breathy laugh. He wanted release and he wanted it now, and they were running out of time. 

"Alright, uh, you lead the way," Dan said quietly. "Um, pinch me if you want me to stop, or something." 

Arin nodded, even though he knew already that no pinching would be necessary. He knew his boundaries, and by the way Dan was behaving, he wasn't prepared to do the artist any intentional harm. 

The next time Arin put his mouth down around the head of Dan's leaking dick, he had forced himself to relax and tried to breathe deep through his nose while he still could breathe at all. He had given Dan the go-ahead, to which Dan responded with a shaky sigh and the gingerly placement of his hands on the perfectly-stilled head of his crush. 

Hoping that Arin didn't forget that he could get Dan to stop, Dan looked down at the artist and made hesitant eye contact with him while slowly arching into his mouth. Searching for any signs of retraction, discomfort, or pain. When Arin made no movements to back down, Dan grew more confident in them both and on his next few thrusts he gently brought Arin's head down to meet the base of his cock. Arin's sharp inhale was cut off as Dan's length was pushed down past the threshold of respiration, and while Dan didn't at all want to leave this... This tight sheath of heat and sensation... he knew he had to let Arin breathe every once in a while. 

Arin became accustomed to Dan's movements; the slender model was very easy to read. He knew exactly when to take deeper breaths before Dan plunged into his throat, because Dan would pull out nearly all the way, then thrust all the way back inside. Every time he hit the back of his throat and went beyond, Arin treated him to a deep, rumbling moan, each one inching Dan closer and closer to climax, and before either of them knew it—

Ah, _shit_ , climax. How was he going to handle this, now? Would Arin let Dan cum down his throat? Would Arin be willing to swallow it? If not, Dan was sure that the artist himself would look _gorgeous_ while painted in white cum; it was something that Dan, admittedly, has thought about before. On... multiple occasions.

But regardless of what Dan wanted, he had to remember that an art school wasn't exactly the best place to get creative with... Well, jizz-painting. What Arin wanted to do was the only thing that mattered to Dan, and Dan fought hard to override the need to unload every time he buried in deep to Arin's throat. 

Finally,  _finally_ , he couldn't stand it anymore. "A-Arin... I'm not going to h-  _oh-!_ Hold out much longer..." He pulled back into Arin's mouth, making shallow thrusts to edge him to orgasm without shoving himself somewhere he doesn't belong first. "I need you to t-tell me - tell me where you want me." 

Dan made the move to pull out completely to give Arin the chance that he offered, but the devious artist had other things in mind. 

And in mouth. 

Arin, who was now mouthing the very wet tip, suckled hard on it before sinking himself down to the base of Dan's lengthy cock. Dan's body arched spasmodically and he gripped Arin's hair with a pressure hard enough to make his knuckles turn white, and then Dan stilled with a choppy groan.

White ribbons of cum shot down Arin's throat and he was helplessly at the mercy of Dan, excitingly so, but he edged Dan along by swallowing around the slowly softening shaft. Dan hissed a handful of muffled curses and held Arin even closer, tighter– _painfully_ so, but the moans vibrating through Arin's full mouth told Dan that Arin wasn't necessarily complaining.

With a sigh and a contented smirk, Dan gently pulled out of Arin's mouth with the artist deliberately forming his mouth to create a wet  _pop_  when it left. Dan slinked down to Arin's position on the ground after tidying himself up, the still-wet sensation of Arin's saliva on his skin not necessarily doing anything to comfort him as he put his pants back on– but Dan decided he'll happily live with it.

Something he  _wasn't_  about to live with, however, was the unsatisfied, completely-obvious boner that Arin was donning. Dan was blissfully tired, satiated and coming down from a post-orgasmic high, but at the top of that list he was  _not very horny anymore_. But Dan _always_ saw sexual acts as a balance– as equal parts give-and-receive, and Dan wasn't about to just take what he couldn't return. 

He was going to have to push through the discomfort of overstimulation, not that it would be so bad with Arin anyways. He reached down between Arin's still-kneeling body and pressed his thumb gently against the hard length, but Arin took a shaky breath and pushed his hand away.

"N-no," Arin started, red cheeks and smile clearly stating that he had welcomed the touch.

"What?" Dan was surprised. If he was in Arin's position right now, he'd be begging for any kind of release he could get. 

"It's okay... I don't need it," Arin said quietly. "You can go home now, before the bell rings for lunch."

"...Arin." Dan was not having it. There was nothing about Arin's current state that said he wasn't searching for release. "I'm not going to just let you fucking  _deepthroat_  me and then let you deny any kind of physical contact. Let me _touch you_." Dan had leaned just a touch closer to Arin, but Arin was making a move to back away. 

"Dan...?" Arin asked, concern colouring his words.

"Shit, wait, no, that came out wrong," Dan stumbled, "I  _mean_ , I won't do anything without your consent, of course– but...  _Look_ at you. I'm not calling you desperate, but I know the need to cum when I see it. Why won't you let me give that to you?"

Arin looked at him for a brief while before standing up. "Because I don't always need to have an orgasm to feel good?" He shrugged. He said it as more of a question, like the response itself was already glaringly obvious.

"But–" now Dan seemed to be the more desperate of the two. "Arin–"

"No buts." He smiled and offered Dan a hand, which Dan took, and hauled him to his feet. Dan turned and bent over to gather the clothes and things that they had dropped in their fervor. "Unless it's _yours_ , then we'll talk." To emphasize his words, he reeled back and smacked Dan's ass hard, making the model yelp and lurch forward after he stood up again.

Dan whipped back around and looked at Arin, who wore a cheeky grin and had a playful glint in his eyes. Oh, _that_ was a look that Dan could  _definitely_  get used to seeing. Knowing what else Arin could do with that mouth made Dan's insides buzz with interest, even after a powerful orgasm. But right now was for sure not the time nor place to be thinking about things like that, even though it was their reality moments before.

Arin's predatory grin melted into a warm, loving smile, and before long the two were standing closer together without even realizing the other had moved. Dan leaned with his shoulders back against the brick wall and placed his arms around Arin's neck, making no real effort to keep him still. 

Arin's hands rested gently on Dan's waist, thumbs stroking the soft hips just above and fingers pressing insistently every time Dan made the slightest of movements.

Around the campus, voices were piping up from all directions. Students who were let out of class minutes before the bell had gone were now filing their way outside, so Arin knew they only had moments before Dan had to leave to go get ready for work. 

_Better make this quick, then._

Standing up barely on his tiptoes to make up for the distance where Dan was bent over, Arin brought their hips together gently and then placed a hand on the center of Dan's back, holding his body still. Dan made no moves except towards Arin, who happily accepted this fact, and under the warm, welcoming embrace of the sun, their lips met in a patient kiss that left Arin's insides fluttering with appreciation. 

Their first kiss – their first  _real kiss_  – was gentle and strangely romantic, especially given the current setting.

Arin was  _floored_. Dan was such a  _great kisser–!_  Lips meshed gently together, Arin let out a happy hum and began to pull away, smiling when Dan locked his arms around Arin's neck to move him right back to where he was, kissing him again with more passion. 

Dan made the move to slide the tip of his tongue against the soft, pink surface of Arin's bottom lip, earning a clenching of the hand on Dan's hip and the immediate opening of Arin's warm mouth. Dan shivered at Arin's compliance and pull himself closer, pressing their tongues together as Dan tilted his head to the side to get better access. 

A few all-too-short minutes  of heated making out later, they finally parted to get a breath of real air, rather than stealing each other's. Dan had his forehead pressed against Arin's and both of their eyes were closed, but they were just as content with feeling each other. Nothing sexual, barely even  _romantic_ , but the concept of someone just being  _there_  was as comforting as anything else to Dan. Arin was the first real-feeling friend he's made in a long time since moving here to Los Angeles, and he hoped that Arin felt the same when Dan thought that they could be something  _more_. 

After moments of silence and thinking, Arin pulled back to look at Dan's face. 

There was no traces of anything except for bliss and a true sense of wonder in Arin's gaze, and Dan pressed out a patient smile of his own to tell Arin that he felt similarly. 

"Wow," Arin said breathlessly. "That was someth–"

**_RRRRRRIIIIING!_ **

Arin was loudly cut off by the shocking sound of the bell, ringing above their heads. Both boys yelped and jumped away from each other to cover their ears, silently laughing but complaining about the noise in the same way. 

"Oh my _god_ , did that really just...?" Dan raised his voice over the ringing and the noise of people flowing out of doors and into the open campus around them.

Arin laughed and nodded his head. "That's some comic book shit, man."

People were walking by the two boys talking in the cove of the buildings, some giving knowing looks and others not catching on. Granted, Arin's hair was something of a mess and Dan's clothes were ruffled, but the boys paid no mind as they hashed out future plans for when they weren't busy. 

Arin had to catch up on in most classes, never mind for the one he just skipped, but Dan had work when Arin would be free, and vice versa. Plans overlapped and free time was used up by the other for something they needed to get done. 

"Well, I'm sure we can work around it," Arin suggested. 

"Yeah," 

"Ah, where'd you say you worked, again?"

"A restaurant, as a waiter.  _Vintage_ , but it's alright."

"Yeah, you think so?" Arin chuckled. "What's the name of the restaurant?" 

"Really, it's _Vintage_ –" Dan responded. 

"I know, so you said," Arin cut in. "But... What's the name of the place?"

Dan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "The restaurant is named  _Vintage_!"

Arin stared at him for a second before it all seemed to click in his head. "Oh...! I thought you were– I thought you just... The name... _Oh_."

Dan laughed heartily at Arin's confusion and shook his head. "Not the first time it's happened, actually," he stated. "Maybe I need to work on my explanation."

Arin sighed. "You  _think_?"

To this, Dan laughed again. _God_ , he had a charming laugh. Arin would stand to make a fool of himself day in and day out if he could make the model laugh as beautifully as he looked.

Dan swiped his phone out of his pocket and hit the button, reading the time with a disappointed sigh. "Speaking of 'Vintage', I should be heading there soon. Hate to leave you on our first  _hooky-date_ , but–" he shrugged– "duty calls."

"Hooky-date?" Arin echoed. " _Date_?"

The smug model simply shrugged for a second time and slid his hand to the side of Arin's neck, keeping his head still to press a sweet kiss to his parted lips. 

Arin responded naturally by closing his eyes and accepting the embrace, but not after he gave a little bit back, too. He still couldn't really comprehend what just happened, but... Well, he thought he was prepared to deal with what came next, at least. 

A recalculation might prove that he was incorrect, but who was counting?

Dan finally departed and left Arin with a happy smile, taking clear pride in the artist's flustered expression. Once Dan was out of view, Arin slumped against the brick wall and slid down it until he was seated on the ground. He rested his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes, laughing with disbelief at recent events. The soreness of his throat was starting to nag at him not to laugh, talk, do  _anything_ , but damn it all if Arin just couldn't help it. He'd gladly deal with a sore throat every once in a while– besides, Dan was... Actually, pretty gentle with him. It made Arin flustered to think about. 

_Oh, God,_ Arin chuckled to himself. He opened his bag to find his phone, pulling up a new conversation with Ross and staring at the blank message box. 

He had intended to text the boy asking if he was alright, what he was doing, and if he had slept since Arin left him that morning. Arin meant to remind him to eat food and drink something, but also to remember not to exert himself. He wanted to tell Ross that he loved him and missed him and hoped that he was feeling better. Arin was worried that the nightmare had gotten Ross in his sleep again, where Arin couldn't have been there to wake him up or calm him down. 

So many ideas and comments and worries blurred in and out of his mind, but even his most concerned thoughts were masked by one, overpowering one.

_Dan_.

The model invaded his every thought process: his lips, his smile, his eyes, his hands, his waist, his body,  _him_. With nothing and everything to say to Ross, Arin decided that he just might go check on him in person. Arin shook his head, locked the phone screen and placed the device on the cement ledge beside his hip. The usually-sturdy artist was shivering with anticipation, but was simultaneously beaming with wonder.

This... was going to be more of a handful than he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let it be known that there's a difference between "I really like this fic and I'd love to see more!" and "I DEMAND YOU WRITE MORE OF THIS FIC I NEED IT." The first is encouraging and kind, the second is greedy and careless and rude and just... don't ever be the second one. Your comments will be deleted and I won't want to write any more at all. 
> 
> Until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! You made it to the end of this chapter! Thank you so much for reading this, it means a lot! Comments/suggestions, Kudos, and/or bookmarks would be greatly appreciated~  
> ***  
> Follow [my tumblr](http://buttelf.tumblr.com/) for more video games, Game Grumps, art, and shipping!  
> ***  
> Art for this fic! [[x]](http://buttelf.tumblr.com/post/142204270588/lovelydoodling-buttelf-im-already-in-love) [[x]](http://buttelf.tumblr.com/post/142501982503/some-seriously-nsfw-shit-under-the-cut-this-is) [[x]](http://buttelf.tumblr.com/post/141650370488/a-painting-i-finally-finished-for-a-scene-in-my)


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